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THE SHEIK 





THE SHEIK 

A NOVEL 


BY 

E. M. HULL 

M 



/ 


BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


i 




Copyright, 1921, 

By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

(incorporated) 


First to 


3 

5V. 

3 


Forty-first Printing, February to November, 1921 
lorip-gecond Printing, December, 1921 
Forty-third Printing, December, 1921 
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Forty-fifth Printing, December, 1921 
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Forty-ninth Printing, December, 1921 
Fiftieth Printing, December, 192 1 
Fifty-first Printing, December, 1921 
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Fifty-fourth Printing, December, 1921 
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Fifty-sixth Printing, December, 1921 
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, Fifty-ninth Prhiting, January, 1922 
Sixtieth Printing, January, 1922 
Sixty-first Printing, January, 1922 
Sixty-scrond Printing, January, 1922 
Sixty- third Printing, January, 1922 
Sixty-fourth Printing, January, 1922 
Sixty-fifth Printing, January, 1922 
Sixty-sixth Printing, February, 1922 
Sixty-seventh Printing, February, 1922 
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Seventieth Printing, February, 1922 
Seventy-first Printing, February, 1922 
Seventy-second Printing, March, 1922 
Seventy-third Printing, March, 1922 
Seventy-fourth Printing, March, 1922 
Seventy-fifth Printing, April, 1922 
Seventy-sixth Printing, May, 1922 



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THE SHEIK 


CHAPTER I 

“ Are you coming in to watch the dancing, Lady Con- 
way ? ” 

I most decidedly am not. I thoroughly disapprove 
of the expedition of which this dance is the inauguration. 
I consider that even by contemplating such a tour alone 
into the desert with no chaperon or attendant of her own 
sex, with only native camel drivers and servants, Diana 
Mayo is behaving with a recklessness and impropriety 
that is calculated to cast a slur not only on her own 
reputation, but also on the prestige of her country. I 
blush to think of it. We English cannot be too careful 
of our behavior abroad. No opportunity is slight enough 
for our continental neighbours to cast stones, and this 
opportunity is very far from being slight. It is the mad- 
dest piece of unprincipled folly I have ever heard of.” 

“ Oh, come, Lady Conway ! It*s not quite so bad as 
all that. It is certainly unconventional and — er — prob- 
ably not quite wise, but remember Miss Mayo’s unusual 
upbringing — ” 

** I am not forgetting her unusual upbringing,” inter- 
rupted Lady Conway. ** It has been deplorable. But 
nothing can excuse this ‘scandalous escapade. I knew her 
mother years ago, and I took it upon myself to expostulate 


2 


THE SHEIK 


both with Diana and her brother, but Sir Aubrey is hedged 
around with an egotistical complacency mat would defy 
a pickaxe to penetrate. According to him a Mayo is 
beyond criticism, and his sister’s reputation her own to 
deal with. The girl herself seemed, frankly, not to un- 
derstand the seriousness of her position, and was very 
flippant and not a little rude. I wash my hands of the 
whole affair, and will certainly not countenance to-night’s 
entertainment by appearing at it. I have already warned 
the manager that if the noise is kept up beyond a reason- 
able hour I shall leave the hotel to-morrow.” And, draw- 
ing her wrap around her with a little shudder. Lady Con- 
way stalked majestically across the wide verandah of the 
Biskra Hotel. 

The two men left standing by the open French window 
that led into the hotel ballroom looked at each other and 
smiled. 

** Some peroration,” said one with a marked American 
accent. ** That’s the way scandal’s made, I guess.” 

Scandal be hanged ! There’s never been a breath of 
scandal attached to Diana Mayo’s name. I’ve known the 
child since she v/as a baby. Rum little cuss she was, too. 
Confound that old woman ! She would wreck the reputa- 
tion of the Archangel Gabriel if he came down earth, 
let alone that of a mere human girl.” 

“ Not a very human girl,” laughed the American. 

“ She was sure meant for a boy and changed at the last 
moment. She looks like a boy in petticoats, a damned 
pretty boy— -and a damned haughty one,” he added, 
chuckling. I overheard her this morning, in the garden, 0 
making mincemeat of a French officer.” 

The Englishman laughed. 


THE SHEIK 


3 

" Been making love to her, I expect. A thing she does 
not understand and won’t tolerate. She’s the coldest 
little fish in the world, without an idea in her head beyond 
sport and travel. Clever, though, and plucky as they are 
made. I don’t think she knows the meaning of the word 
fear.” 

There’s a queer streak in the family, isn’t there ? I 
heard somebody yapping about it the other night. Father 
was mad and blew his brains out, so I was told.” 

The Englishman shrugged his shoulders. 

“ You can call it mad, if you like,” he said slowly. 
“I live near the Mayos’ in England, and' happen to know 
the story. Sir John Mayo was passionately devoted to 
his wife; after twenty years of married life they were 
still lovers. Then this girl was born, and the mother 
died. Two hours afterwards her husband shot himself, 
leaving the baby in the sole care of her brother, who was 
just nineteen, and as lazy and as selfish then as he is 
now. The problem of bringing up a girl child was too 
much trouble to be solved, so he settled the difficulty by 
treating her as if she was a boy. The result is what you 
see. 

They moved nearer to the open window, looking into 
the brilliantly lit ballroom, already filled with gaily chat- 
tering people. On a slightly raised platform at one end 
of the room the host and hostess were receiving their 
guests. The brother and sister were singularly unlike. 
Sir Aubrey Mayo was very tall and thin, the pallor of his 
face accentuated by the blackness of his smoothly brushed 
hair and heavy black moustache. His attitude was a mix- 
ture of well-bred courtesy and languid boredom. He 
seemed too tired even to keep the single eye-glass that he 


4 


THE SHEIK 


wore in position, for it dropped continually. By con- 
trast the girl at his side appeared vividly alive. She was 
only of medium height and very slender, standing erect 
with the easy, vigorous carriage of an athletic boy, her 
small head poised proudly. Her scornful mouth and firm 
chin showed plainly an obstinate determination, and her 
deep blue eyes were unusually clear and steady. The 
long, curling black lashes that shaded her eyes and the 
dark eyebrows were a foil to the thick crop of loose, red- 
gold curls that she wore short, clubbed about her ears. 

“ The result is worth seeing,” said the American admir- 
ingly, referring to his companion’s last remark, 

A third and younger man joined them. 

Hallo, Arbuthnot. You’re late. The divinity is ten 
deep in would-be partners already.” 

A dull red crept into the young man’s face, and he 
jerked his head angrily. 

I got waylaid by Lady Conway — poisonous old 
woman! She had a great deal to say on the subject of 
Miss Mayo and her trip. She ought to be gagged. I 
thought she was going on talking all night, so I fairly 
bolted in the end. All the same, I agree with her on one 
point. Why can’t that lazy ass Mayo go with his sister ? ” 
Nobody seemed to be able to give an answer. The 
band had begun playing, and the floor was covered with 
laughing, talking couples. 

Sir Aubrey Mayo had moved away, and his sister was 
left standing with several men, who waited, programme 
in hand, but she waved them away with a little smile, and 
a resolute shake of her head. 

“Things seem to be getting a hustle on,” said the 
American. 


THE SHEIK 


5 

Are you going to try your luck ? ” asked the elder of 
the two Englishmen. 

The American bit the end off a cigar with a little 
smile. 

“ I sure am not. The haughty young lady turned me»» 
down as a dancer very early in our acquaintance. I don^t 
blame her/^ he added, with a rueful laugh, ^‘but her 
extreme candour still rankles. She told me quite plainly 
that she had no use for an American who could neither 
ride nor dance. I did intimate to her, very gently, that 
there were a few little openings in the States for men 
beside cattle-punching and cabaret dancing, but she froze 
me with a look, and I faded away. No, Sir Egotistical 
Complacency will be having some bridge later on, which 
will suit me much better. He's not a bad chap under- 
neath if you can swallow his peculiarities, and he’s a 
sportsman. I like to play with him. He doesn’t care a 
durn if he wins or loses.” 

“ It doesn’t matter when you have a banking account 
the size of his,” said Arbuthnot. “ Personally, I find 
dancing more amusing and less expensive. I shall go and 
take my chance with our hostess.” 

His eyes turned rather eagerly towards the end of the 
room where the girl was standing alone, straight and slim, 
the light from an electrolier gilding the thick bright curls 
framiig her beautiful, haughty little face. She was star- 
ing down at the dancers with an absent expression in her 
eyes, as if her thoughts were far away from the crowded 
ballroom. 

The American pushed Arbuthnot forward with a little 
laugh. 

*‘Run along, foolish moth, and get your poor littla 


6 


THE SHEIK 


wings singed. When the cruel fair has done trampling 
on you I’ll come right along and mop up the remainSo 
If, on the other hand, your temerity meets with the success 
it deserves, we can celebrate suitably later on.” And, 
linking his arm in his friend’s, he drew him away to the 
card-room. 

Arbuthnot went through the window and worked 
slowly round the room, hugging the wall, evading dancers, 
and threading his way through groups of chattering men 
and women of all nationalities. He came at last to the 
raised dais on which Diana Mayo was still standing, and 
climbed up the few steps to her side. 

“ This is luck. Miss Mayo,” he said, with an assurance 
that he was far from feeling. “Am I really fortunate 
enough to find you without a partner ? ” 

She turned to him slowly, with a little crease growing 
between her arched eyebrows, as if his coming were in- 
opportune and she resented the interruption to her 
thoughts, and then she smiled quite frankly. 

“ I said I would not dance until everybody was started,” 
she said rather doubtfully, looking over the crowded floor. 

“ They are all dancing. You’ve done your duty nobly. 
Don’t miss this ripping tune,” he urged persuasively. 

She hesitated, tapping her programme-pencil against 
her teeth. 

“ I refused a lot of men,” she said, with a grimace. 
Then she laughed suddenly. “ Come along, then. I am 
noted for my bad manners. This will only be one extra 
sin.” 

Arbuthnot danced well, but with the girl in his arms 
he seemed suddenly tongue-tied. They swung round 
the room several times, then halted simultaneously beside 


THE SHEIK 


r 

an open window and went out into the garden of the 
hotel, sitting down on a wicker seat under a gaudy Jap- 
anese hanging lantern. The band was still playing, and 
for the moment the garden was empty, lit faintly by col- 
oured lanterns, festooned from the palm trees, and 
twinkling lights outlining the winding paths, 

Arbuthnot leaned forward, his hands clasped between 
his knees. 

‘‘ I think you are the most perf ect dancer I have ever 
met,” he said a little breathlessly. 

Miss Mayo looked at him seriously without a trace of 
self-consciousness. 

“ It is very easy to dance if you have a musical ear, 
and if you have been in the habit of making your body 
do what you want. So few people seem to be trained to 
make their limbs obey them. Mine have had to do as 
they were told since I was a small child,” she answered 
calmly. 

The unexpectedness of the reply acted as a silencer on 
Arbuthnot for a few minutes, and the girl beside hitn 
seemed in no hurry to break the silence. The dance 
was over and the empty garden was thronged for a little 
time. Then the dancers drifted back into the hotel as the 
band started again. 

** It’s rather jolly here in the garden,” Arbuthnot said 
tentatively. His heart was pounding with unusual 
rapidity, and his eyes, that he kept fixed on his own 
clasped hands, had a hungry look growing in them. 

“ You mean that you want to sit out this dance with 
me?” she said with a boyish directness that somewhat 
nonplussed him. 

Yes,” he stammered rather foolishly. 


8 


THE SHEIK 


She held her programme up to the light of the lantern, 
promised this one to Arthur Conway. We quarrel 
every time we meet. I cannot think why he asked me; 
he disapproves of me even more than his mother does — 
such an interfering old lady. He will be overjoyed to be 
let off. And I don’t want to dance to-night. I am look- 
ing forward so tremendously to to-morrow. I shall stay 
and talk to you, but you must give me a cigarette to 
keep me in a good temper.” 

His hand shook a little as he held the match for her. 
‘‘Are you really determined to go through with this 
tour ? ” 

She stared at him in surprise. “ Why not ? My ar- 
rangements have been made some time. Why should I 
change my mind at the last moment ? ” 

“Why does your brother let you go alone? Why 
doesn’t he go with you ? Oh, I haven’t any right to ask, 
but I do ask,” he broke out vehemently. 

She shrugged her shoulders with a little laugh. “ We 
fell out, Aubrey and I. He wanted to go to America. I 
wanted a trip into the desert. We quarrelled for two 
whole days and half one night, and then we compromised 
I should have my desert tour, and Aubrey should go to 
New York; and to mark his brotherly appreciation of my 
gracious promise to follow him to the States without fail 
at the end of a month he has consented to grace my car- 
avan for the first stage, and dismiss me on my v/ay with 
his blessing. It annoyed him so enormously that he 
could not order me to go with him, this being the first 
time in our wanderings that our inclinations have not 
jumped in the same direction. I came of age a few 
months ago, and, in future, I can do as I please. Not that 


THE SHEIK 


9 

I have ever done anything else,” she conceded, with an- 
other laugh, ‘‘ because Aubrey's ways have been my ways 
until now.” 

“ But for the sake of one month ! What difference 
could it make to him ? ” he asked in astonishment. 

“ That's Aubrey,” replied Miss Mayo drily. 

“ It isn't safe,” persisted Arbuthnot. 

She flicked the ash from her cigarette carelessly. “I 
don't agree with you. I don't know why everybody is 
making such a fuss about it. Plenty of other women 
have travelled in much wilder country than this desert.” 

He looked at her curiously. She seemed to be totally 
unaware that it was her youth and her beauty that made 
all the danger of the expedition. He fell back on the 
easier excuse. 

There seems to be unrest amongst some of the tribes. 
There have been a lot of rumours lately,” he said seriously. 

She made a little movement of impatience. Oh, 
that's what they always tell you when they want to put 
obstacles in your way. The authorities have already 
dangled that bogey in front of me. I asked for facts and 
they only gave me generalities. I asked definitely if they 
had any power to stop me. They said they had not, but 
strongly advised me not to make the attempt. I said I 
should go, unless the French Government arrested me. . . . 
Why not? I am not afraid. I don't admit that there is 
iinything to be afraid of. < I don't believe a word about 
the tribes being restless. Arabs are always moving about, 
aren't they? I have an excellent caravan leader, whom 
even the authorities vouch for, and I shall be armed. I 
am perfectly able to take care of myself. I can shoot 
straight and I am used to camping. Besides, I have 


lO 


THE SHEIK 


given my word to Aubrey to be in Oran in a month, and 
I can’t get very far away in that time.” 

There was an obstinate ring in her voice, and when 
she stopped speaking he sat silent, consumed with 
anxiety, obsessed with the loveliness of her, and tor- 
mented with the desire to tell her so. Then he turned to 
her suddenly, and his face was very white. Miss Mayo 
— Diana — put off this trip only for a little, and give me 
the right to go with you. I love you. I want you for 
my wife more than anything on earth. I shan’t always 
be a penniless subaltern. One of these days I shall be able 
to give you a position that is worthy of you ; no, nothing 
could be that, but one at least that I am not ashamed to 
offer to you. We’ve been very good friends ; you know 
all about me. I’ll give my whole life to make you happy. 
The world has been a different place to me since you 
came into it. I can’t get away from you. You are in my 
thoughts night and day. I love you; I want you. My 
God, Diana ! Beauty like yours drives a man mad ! ” 

Is beauty all that a man wants in his wife?” she 
asked, with a kind of cold wonder in her voice. “ Brains 
and a sound body seem much more sensible requirements 
to me. ’ 

“ But when a woman has all three, as you have, Diana,” 
he whispered ardently, his hands closing over the slim 
ones lying in her lap. 

But with a strength that seemed impossible for their 
smallness she disengaged them from his grasp. ‘‘ Please 
stop. I am sorry. We have been good friends, and it 
has never occurred to me that there could be anything 
beyond that. I never thought that you might love me. I 
never thought of you in that way at all. I don’t under- 


THE SHEIK 


II 


stand it. When God made me He omitted to give me a 
heart. I have never loved any one in my life. My 
brother and I have tolerated each other, but there has 
never been any affection between us. Would it be likely? 
Put yourself in Aubrey’s place. Imagine a young man 
of nineteen, with a cold, reserved nature, being burdened 
with the care of a baby sis^^ir, thrust into his hands un- 
wanted and unexpected. yVas it likely that he would 
have any affection for me? I never wanted it. I was 
born with the same cold nature as his. I was brought up 
as a boy, my training was hard. Emotion and affection 
have been barred out of my life. I simply don’t know 
what they mean. I don’t want to know. I am very con- 
tent with my life as it is. Marriage for a woman means 
the end of independence, that is, marriage with a man 
who is a man, in spite of all that the most modern woman 
may say. I have never obeyed any one in my life; I do 
not wish to try the experiment. I am very sorry to have 
hurt you. You’ve been a splendid pal, but that side of 
life does not exist for me. If I had thought for one 
moment that my friendship was going to hurt you I need 
not have let you become so intimate, but I did not think, 
because it is a subject that I never think of. A man 
to me is just a companion with whom I ride or shoot 
or fish; a pal, a comrade, and that’s just all there is to it. 
God made me a woman. Why, only He knows.” 

Her quiet, even voice stopped. There had been a 
tone of cold sincerity in it that Arbuthnot could not help 
but recognise. She meant everything that she said. She 
said no more than the truth. Her reputation for com- 
plete indifference to admiration and her unvarying atti- 
tude towards men were as well known as hei dauntless 


12 


THE SHEIK 


courage and obstinate determination. With Sir Aubrey 
Mayo she behaved like a younger brother, and as such 
entertained his friends. She was popular with every- 
body, even with the mothers of marriageable daughters, 
for, in spite of her wealth and beauty, her notorious 
peculiarities made her negligible as a rival to plainer and 
less well-dowered girls. 

Arbuthnot sat in silence. It was hardly likely, he 
thought bitterly, that he should succeed where other and 
better men had failed. He had been a fool to succumb 
to the temptation that had been too hard for him to 
resist. He knew her well enough to know beforehand 
what her answer would be. The very real fear for her 
safety that the thought of the coming expedition gave 
him, her nearness in the mystery of the Eastern night, the 
lights, the music, had all combined to rush to his lips 
words that in a saner moment would never have passed 
them. He loved her, he would love her always, but he 
knew that his love was as hopeless as it was undying. 
But it was men who were men whom she wanted for 
her friends, so he must take his medicine like a man. 

“ May I still be the pal, Diana? ” he said quietly. 

She looked at him a moment, but in the dim light of 
the hanging lanterns his eyes were steady under hers, and 
she held out her hand frankly. “ Gladly,” she said can- 
didly. “ I have hosts of acquaintances, but very few 
friends. We are always travelling, Aubrey and I, and we 
never seem to have time to make friends. We rarely stay 
as long in one place as we have stayed in Biskra. In 
England they call us very bad neighbours, we are so sel- 
dom there. We generally go home for three months in 


THE SHEIK 


13 

the winter for the hunting, but the rest of the year we 
wander on the face of the globe.” 

He held her slender fingers gripped in his for a mo- 
ment, smothering an insane desire to press them to his 
lips, which he knew would be fatal to the newly ac- 
corded friendship, and then let them go. Miss Mayo 
continued sitting quietly beside him. She was in no 
way disturbed by what had happened. She had taken 
him literally at his word, and was treating him as the pal 
he had asked to be. It no more occurred to her that she 
might relieve him of her society than it occurred to her 
that her continued presence might be distressing to him. 
She was totally unembarrassed and completely un-self- 
conscious. And as they sat silent, her thoughts far away 
in yie desert, and his full of vain longings and regrets, a 
man’s low voice rose in the stillness of the night. “ Pale 
hands I loved beside the Shalimar. Where are you now? 
Who lies beneath your spell?** he sang in a passionate, 
vibrating baritone. He was singing in English, and yet 
the almost indefinite slurring from note to note was 
strangely un-English. Diana Mayo leaned forward, her 
head raised, listening intently, with shining eyes. The 
voice seemed to come from the dark shadows at the end 
of the garden, or it might have been further away out in 
the road beyond the cactus hedge. The singer sang 
slowly, his voice lingering caressingly on the words; the 
last verse dying away softly and clearly, almost imper- 
ceptibly fading into silence. 

For a moment there was utter stillness, then Diana 
lay back with a little sigh. The Kashmiri Song. It 
makes me think of India. I heard a man sing it in Kash- 


14 


THE SHEIK 


mere last year, but not like that. What a wonderful 
voice I I wonder who it is ? ” 

Arbuthnot looked at her curiously, surprised at the 
sudden ring of interest in her tone, and the sudden ani- 
mation of her face. 

** You say you have no emotion in your nature, and yet 
that unknown man’s singing has stirred you deeply. How 
do you reconcile the two ? ” he asked, almost angrily. 

“Is an appreciation of the beautiful emotion?” she 
challenged, with uplifted eyes. “ Surely not. Music, 
art, nature, everything beautiful appeals to me. But 
there is nothing emotional in that. It is only that I prefer 
beautiful things to ugly ones. For that reason even pretty 
clothes appeal to me,” she added, laughing. 

“ You are the best-dressed woman in Biskra,” he ac- 
ceded. “ But is not that a concession to the womanly 
feelings that you despise ? ” 

“ Not at all. To take an interest in one’s clothes is 
not an exclusively feminine vice. I like pretty dresses. 
I admit to spending some time in thinking of colour 
schemes to go with my horrible hair, but I assure you 
that my dressmaker has an easier life than Aubrey’s 
tailor.” 

She sat silent, hoping that the singer might not have 
gone, but there was no sound except a cicada chirping 
near her. She swung round in her chair, looking in the 
direction from which it came. “ Listen to him. Jolly 
little chap! They are the first things I listen for when 
I get to Port Said. They mean the East to me.” 

“ Maddening little beasts ! ” said .Arbuthnot irritably. 

“ They are going to be very friendly little beasts to me 
during the next four weeks. ... You don’t know what 


THE SHEIK 


I 


this trip means to me. I like wild places. The happiest 
times of my life have been spent camping in America and 
India, and I have always wanted the desert more than 
either of them. It is going to be a month of pure joy. 
I am going to be enormously happy.” 

She stood up with a little laugh of intense pleasure, 
and half turned, waiting for Arbuthnot. He got up re- 
luctantly and stood silent beside her tor a few moments. 
“ Diana, I wish you’d let me kiss you, just once,” he broke 
out miserably. 

She looked up swiftly with a glint of anger in her 
eyes, and^shook her head. “No. That’s not in the 
compact. I have never been kissed in my life. It is one 
of the things that I do not understand.” Her voice was 
almost fierce. 

She moved leisurely towards ^he hotel, and he paced 
beside her wondering if he had forfeited her friendship 
by his outburst, but on the verandah she halted and spoke 
in the frank tone of camaraderie in which she had always 
addressed him. “ Shall I see you in the morning ? ” 

He understood. There was to be no more reference to 
what had passed between them. The offer of friendship 
held, but only on her own terms. He pulled himself to- 
gether. 

“ Yes. We have arranged an escort of about a dozen 
of us to ride the first few miles with you, to give you a 
proper send-off.” 

She made a laughing gesture of protest. “ It will cer- 
tainly need four weeks of solitude to counteract the con- 
ceit I shall acquire,” she said lightly, as she passed into 
the ballroom. 

A few hours later Diana came into her bedroom, and. 


o 


THE SHEIK 


switching on the electric lights, tossed her gloves and 
programme into a chair. The rpom was empty, for her 
maid had had a vertige at the suggestion that she should 
accompany her mistress into the desert, and had been sent 
back to Paris to await Diana’s return. She had left dur- 
ing the day, to take most of the heavy luggage with her. 

Diana stood in the middle of the room and looked at 
the preparations for the early start next morning with a 
little smile of satisfaction. Everything was en train; the 
final arrangements had all been concluded some days 
before. The camel caravan with the cam.p equipment was 
due to leave Biskra a few hours before the time fixed for 
the Mayos to start with Mustafa Ali, the reputable guide 
whom the French authorities had reluctantly recom- 
mended. The two big suit-cases that Diana was taking 
with her stood open, ready packed, waiting only for the 
last few necessaries, and by them the steamer trunk that 
Sir Aubrey would take charge of and leave in Paris as 
he passed through. On a chaise-longue was laid out her 
riding kit ready for the morning. Her smile broadened 
as she looked at the smart-cut breeches and high brown 
boots. They were the clothes in which most of her life 
had been spent, and in which she was far more at home 
than in the pretty dresses over which she had laughed 
with Arbuthnot. 

She was glad the dance was over; it was not a form 
of exercise that appealed to her particularly. She was 
thinking only of the coming tour. She stretched her 
arms out with a little happy laugh. 

“ It’s the life of lives, and it’s going to begin all over 
again to-morrow morning.” She crossed over to the 
dressing-table, and, propping her elbows on it, looked at 


THE SHEIK 


17 

herself in the glass, with a little friendly smile at the 
reflection. In default of any other confidant she had 
always talked to herself, with no thought for the beauty 
of the face staring back at her from the glass. The only 
comment she ever made to herself on her own appearance 
was sometimes to wish that her hair was not such a tire- 
some shade. She looked at herself now with a tinge of 
curiosity. “ I wonder why I’m so especially happy to* 
night. It must be because we have been so long in Biskra. 
It’s been very jolly, but I was beginning to get very 
bored.” She laughed again and picked up her watch to 
wind. It was one of her peculiarities that she would wear 
no jewellery of any kind. Even the gold repeater in 
her hand was on a plain leather strap. She undressed 
slowly and each moment felt more wide awake. Slipping 
a thin wrap over her pyjamas and lighting a cigarette 
she went out on to the broad balcony on to which her 
bedroom gave. The room was on the first floor, and 
opposite her window rose one of the ornately carved and 
bracketed pillars that supported the balcony, stretching up 
to the second story above her head. She looked down 
into the gardens below. It was an easy climb, she 
thought, with a boyish grin — far easier than many she 
had achieved successfully when the need of a solitary 
ramble became imperative. But the East was inconven- 
ient for solitary ramble; native servants had a discon- 
certing habit of lying down to sleep wherever drowsiness 
overcame them, and it was not very long since she had 
slid down from her balcony and landed plumb on a 
slumbering bundle of humanity who had roused half the 
hotel with his howls. She leant far over the rail, trying to 
see into the verandah he1ov^ and she thought she caught 


i8 


THE SHEIK 


a glimpse of white drapery. She looked again, and this 
time there was nothing, but she shook her head with a 
little grimace, and swung herself up on to the broad 
ledge of the railing. Settling herself comfortably with 
her back against the column she looked out over the hotel 
gardens into the night, humming softly the Kashmiri 
song she had heard earlier in the evening. 

The risen moon was full, and its cold, brilliant light 
filled the garden with strong black shadows. She 
watched some that seemed even to move, as if the garden 
were alive with creeping, hurrying figures, and amused 
herself tracking them until she traced them to the palm 
tree or cactus bush that caused them. One in particular 
gave her a long hunt till she finally ran it to its lair, and 
it proved to be the shadow of a grotesque lead statue half 
hidden by a flowering shrub. Forgetting the hour and 
the open windows all around her, she burst into a 
rippling peal of laughter, which was interrupted by the 
appearance of a figure, imperfectly seen through the 
lattice-work which divided her balcony from the next 
one, and the sound of an irritable voice. 

For Heaven’s sake, Diana, let other people sleep if 
you can’t.” 

“Which, being interpreted, is let Sir Aubrey Mayo 
sleep,” she retorted, with a chuckle. “My dear boy, 
sleep if you want to, but I don’t know how you can 
on a night like this. Did you ever see such a gorgeous 
moon ? ” 

“ Oh, damn the moon ! ” 

“ Oh, very well. Don’t get cross about it. Go back to 
bed and put your head under the clothes, and then you 
won’t see it. But I’m going to sit here.” 



THE SHEIK 19 

“ Diana, don’t be an idiot ! You’ll go to sleep and fall 
into the garden and break your neck.” 

*^Tant pis pour mbi. Tant mieux pour toif* she said 
flippantly. “I have left you all that I have in. the world, 
dear brother. Could devotion go further ? ” 

She paid no heed to his exclamation of annoyance, and 
looked back into the garden. It was a wonderful night, 
silent except for the cicadas’ monotonous chirping, mys- 
terious with the inexplicable mystery that hangs always in 
the Oriental night. The smells of the East rose up all 
around her ; here, as at home, they seemed more percept- 
ible by night than by day. Often at home she had stood 
on the little stone balcony outside her room, drinking in 
the smells of the night — 'the pungent, earthy smell after 
rain, the aromatic smell of pine trees near the house. It 
was the intoxicating smells of the night that had first 
driven her, as a very small child, to clamber down from 
her balcony, clinging to the thick ivy roots, to wander 
with the delightful sense of wrong-doing through the 
moonlit park and even into the adjoining gloomy woods. 
She had always been utterly fearless. 

Her childhood had been a strange one. There had been 
no near relatives to interest themselves in the motherless 
girl left to the tender mercies of a brother nearly twenty 
years her senior, who was frankly and undisguisedly hor- 
rified at the charge that had been thrust upon him. 
Wrapped up in himself, and free to indulge in the wander 
hunger that gripped him, the baby sister was an intoler- 
able burden, and he had shifted responsibility in the 
easiest way possible. For the first few years of her life 
she was left undisturbed to nurses and servants who 
spoiled her indiscriminately. Then, when she was still 


20 


THE SHEIK 


quite a tiny child, Sir Aubrey Mayo came home from a 
long tour, and, settling down for a couple of years, fixed 
on his sister^s future training, modelled rigidly on his own 
upbringing. Dressed as a boy, treated as a boy, she 
learned to ride and to shoot and to fish — not as amuse- 
ments, but seriously, to enable her to take her place later 
on as a companion to the man whose only interests they 
were. His air of weariness was a mannerism. In real- 
ity he was as hard as nails, and it was his intention that 
Diana should grow up as hard. With that end in view 
her upbringing had been Spartan, no allowances were 
made for sex or temperament and nothing was spared to 
gain the desired result. And from the first Diana had 
responded gallantly, throwing herself heart and soul into 
the arduous, strenuous life mapped out for her. The only 
drawback to a perfect enjoyment of life were the neces- 
sary lessons that had to be gone through, though even 
these might have been worse. Every morning she rode 
across the park to the rectory for a couple of hours' tui- 
tion with the rector, whose heart was more in his stable 
than in his parish, and whose reputation was greater 
across country than it was in the pulpit. His methods 
were rough and ready, but she had brains, and acquired 
an astonishing amount of diverse knowledge. But her ed- 
ucation was stopped vrith abrupt suddenness when she was 
fifteen by the arrival at the rectory of an overgrown young 
cub who had been sent by a despairing parent, as a last re- 
source, to the muscular rector, and who quickly discovered 
what those amongst whom she had grown up had hardly 
realised, that Diana Mayo, with the clothes and manners 
of a boy, was really an uncommonly beautiful young 
woman. With the assurance belonging to his type, he 


THE SHEIK 


21 


had taken the earliest opportunity of telling her so, fol- 
lowing it with an attempt to secure the kiss that up 
to now his own good looks had always secured for him. 
But in this case he had to deal with a girl who was a girl 
by accident of birth only, who was quicker with her hands 
and far finer trained than he was, and whose latural 
strength was increased by furious rage. She had blacked 
his eye? before he properly understood what was happen- 
ing, and was dancing around him like an infuriated young 
gamecock when the rector had burst in upon them, at- 
tracted by the noise. 

What she left he had finished, and then, breathless and 
angry, had ridden back across the park with her and 
had briefly announced to Sir Aubrey, who happened to 
be at home upon one of his rare visits, that his pupil was 
both too old and too pretty to continue her studies at 
the rectory, and had taken himself off as hurriedly as he 
had come, leaving Sir Aubrey to settle for himself the new 
problem of Diana. And, as before, it was settled in the 
easiest possible way. Physically she was perfectly able 
to take up the role for which he had always intended her ; 
mentally he presumed that she knew as much as it was 
necessary for her to know, and, in any case, travelling 
itself was an education, and a far finer one than could be 
learned from books. So Diana grew up in a day, and in 
a fortnight the old life was behind her and she had 
started out on the ceaseless travels with her brother that 
had continued for the last six years — years of perpetual 
change, of excitements and dangers. 

She thought of it all, sitting on the broad rail of the 
balcony, her head slanted against the column on which 
she leaned* ** It’s been a splendid life,” she murmured. 


^2 


THE SHEIK 


** and to-morrow — to-day begins the most perfect part 
of it/’ She yawned and realised suddenly that she was 
desperately sleepy. She turned back into her room, leav- 
ing the windows wide, and, flinging off her wrap, tumbled 
into bed and slept almost before he. head was on the 
pillow. 

It must have been about an hour later when she awoke, 
suddenly wide awake. She lay quite still, looking cau- 
tiously under her thick lashes. The room was flooded 
with moonlight, there was nothing to be seen, but she had 
the positive feeling that there was another presence in the 
room beside her own ; she had had a half-conscious vision 
in the moment of waking of a shadowy something that 
had seemed to fade away by the window. As the actual 
reality of this thought pierced through the sleep that 
dulled her brain and became a concrete suggestion, she 
sprang out of the bed and ran on to the balcony. It was 
empty. She leaned over the railing, listening intently, 
but she could see nothing and hear nothing. Puzzled, 
she went back into her room and turned on the lights. 
Nothing seemed to be missing: her watch lay where she 
had left it on the dressing table; and the suit-cases had 
apparently not been tampered with. By the bedside the 
ivory-mounted revolver that she always carried was 
lying as she had placed it. She looked around the room 
again, frowning. “ It must have been a dream,” she said 
doubtfully, “ but it seemed very real. It looked tall and 
white and solid, and I felt it there.” She waited a mo- 
ment or two, then shrugged her shoulders, turned out the 
lights, and got into bed. Her nerves were admirable, and 
in five minutes she was asleep again. 


CHAPTER II 


The promised send-off had been enthusiastic. The 
arrangements for the trip had been perfect; there had 
been no hitch anywhere. The guide, Mustafa Ali, ap- 
peared capable and efficient, effacing himself when not 
wanted and replying with courteous dignity when spoken 
to. The day had been full of interest, and the long, hot 
ride had for Diana been the height of physical enjoy- 
ment. They had reached the oasis where the first night 
was to be passed an hour before, and found the camp 
already established, tents pitched, and everything so or- 
dered that Sir Aubrey could find nothing to criticise ; even 
Stephens, his servant, who had travelled with him since 
Diana was a baby, and who was as critical as his master 
on the subject of camps, had no fault to find. 

Diana glanced about her little travelling tent with com- 
plete content. It was much smaller than the ones to 
which she had always been accustomed, ridiculously so 
compared with the large one she had had in India the 
previous year, with its separate bath- and dressing-rooms. 
Servants, too, had swarmed in India. Here service prom- 
ised to be inadequate, but it had been her whim on this 
tour to dispense with the elaborate arrangements that Sir 
Aubrey cultivated and to try comparative roughing it. 
The narrow camp cot, the tin bath, the little folding table 
and her two suit-cases seemed to take up all the available 
space. But she laughed at the inconvenience, though she 


24 


THE SHEIK 


had drenched her bed with splashing, and the soap had 
found its way into the toe of one of her long boots. She 
had changed from her riding clothes into a dress of 
clinging jade-green silk, swinging short above her slender 
ankles, the neck cut low, revealing the gleaming white of 
her soft, girlish bosom. She came out of the tent and 
stood a moment exchanging an amused smile with Steph- 
ens, who was hovering near dubiously, one eye on her 
and the other on his master. She was late, and Sir 
Aubrey liked his meals punctually. The baronet was 
lounging in one deck-chair with his feet on another. 

Diana wagged an admonishing fo/efinger. ** Fly, 
Stephens, and fetch the soup! If it is cold there will be 
a riot.” She walked to the edge of the canvas cloth that 
had been thrown down in front of the tents and stood 
revelling in the scene around her, her eyes dancing with 
excitement as they glanced slowly around the camp spread 
out over the oasis — the clustering palm trees, the desert 
itself stretching away before her in undulating sweeps, 
but seemingly level in the evening light, far off to the 
distant hills lying like a dark smudge against the horizon. 
She drew a long breath. It was the desert at last, the 
desert that she felt she had been longing for all her life. 
She had never known until this moment how intense the 
longing had been. She felt strangely at home, as if the 
great, silent emptiness had been waiting for her as she 
had been waiting for it, and now tliat she had come it 
was welcoming her softly with the faint rustle of the 
whispering sand, the mysterious charm of its billowy, 
shiftin' surface that seemed beckoning to her to penetrate 
further and further into its unknown obscurities. 

Her brother’s voice behind her brought her dowi to 


THE SHEIK 


25^ 

earth suddenly. “ You’ve been a confounded long time.” 

She turned to the table with a faint smile. “ Don’t be a 
bear, Aubrey. It’s all very well for you. You have 
Stephens to lather your chin and to wash your hands, 
but thanks to that idiot Marie, I have to look after my- 
self.” 

Sir Aubrey took his heels down leisurely from the 
second chair, pitched away his cigar, and, screwing his 
eyeglass into his eye with more than usual truculence, 
looked at her with disapproval. “ Are you going to rig 
yourself out like that every evening for the benefit of 
Mustafa Ali and the camel-drivers? ” 

“ I do not propose to invite the worthy Mustafa to 
meals, and I am not in the habit of * rigging myself out,' 
as you so charmingly put it, for any one’s benefit. If 
you think I dress in camp to please you, my dear Aubrey, 
you flatter yourself. I do it entirely to please myself. 
That explorer woman we met in London that first year 
I began travelling with you explained to me the real 
moral and physical value of changing into comfortable, 
pretty clothes after a hard day in breeches and boots. 
You change yourself. What's the difference?” 

“ All the difference,” he snapped. “ There is no need 
for you to make yourself more attractive than you are 
already.” 

** Since when has it occurred to you that I am attrac- 
tive? You must have a touch of the sun, Aubrey,” she 
replied, with uplifted eyebrows, drumming impatiently 
with her fingers on the table. 

“Don’t quibble. You know perfectly well that you- 
are good-looking — too good-looking to carry through this 
preposterous affair.” 


26 


THE SHEIK 


‘‘Will you please tell me what you are driving at?** 
she asked quietly. But the dark blue eyes fixed on her 
brother’s face were growing darker as she looked at him. 

“ Tve been doing some hard thinking to-day, Diana. 
This tour you propose is impossible.” 

“ Isn’t it rather late in the day to find that out ? ” she 
interrupted sarcastically; but he ignored the interruption. 

“ You must see for yourself, now that you are face to 
face with the thing, that it is impossble. It’s quite un- 
thinkable that you can wander for the next month all 
alone in the desert with those damned niggers. Though 
my legal guardianship over you terminated last Septem- 
ber I still have some moral obligations towards you. 
Though it has been convenient to me to bring you up as 
a boy and to regard you in the light of a younger brother 
instead of a sister, we cannot get away from the fact that 
you are a woman, and a very young woman. There are 
certain things a young woman cannot do. If you had 
been the boy I always wished you were it would have been 
a different matter, but you are not a boy, and the whole 
thing is impossible — utterly impossible.” There was a 
fretful impatience in his voice, 

Diana lit a cigarette slowty, and swung round on her 
chair with a hard laugh. “ If I had not lived with you 
all my life, Aubrey, I should really be impressed with your 
brotherly solicitude; I should think you really meant it. 
But knowing you as I do, I know that it is not anxiety on 
my behalf that is prompting you, but the disinclination 
that you have to travel alone without me. You have come 
to depend on me to save you certain annoyances and in- 
conveniences that always occur in travelling. You were 
more honest in Biskra when you only objected to my 


V 

THE SHEIK 


2 /. 

trip without giving reasons. Why have you waited until 
to-night to give me those reasons ? ” 

“ Because I thought that here, at least, you would have 
sense enough to see them. In Biskra it was impossible 
to argue with you. You made your own arrangements 
against my wishes. I left it, feeling convinced that the 
impossibility of it would be brought home to you here, 
and that you would see for yourself that it was out of 
the question. Diana, give up this insane trip.” 

‘‘ I will not.”’ 

“ IVe a thundering good mind to make you.” 

“You can’t. I’m my own mistress. You have no 
right over me at all. You have no claim on me. You 
haven’t even that of ordinary brotherly affection, for 
you have never given, me any, so you cannot expect it 
from me. We needn’t make any pretence about it. I 
am not going to argue any more. I will not go back to 
Biskra.” 

“ If you are afraid of being laughed at — ” he sneered; 
but she took him up swiftly. 

“ I am not afraid of being laughed at. Only cowards 
are afraid of that, and I am not a coward.” 

“ Diana, listen to reason ! ” 

“Aubrey! I have said my last word. Nothing will 
alter my determination to go on this trip. Your argu- 
ments do not convince me, who know you. It is your own 
considerations and not mine that are at the bottom of your 
remonstrances. You do not deny it, because you can’t, 
because it is true.” 

They were facing each other across the little table. An 
angry flush rose in Sir Aubrey’s face, and his eyeglass fell 
with a little sharp tinkle against a waistcoat button. 


28 THE SHEIK 

“ You’re a damned obstinate little devil ! ” he said furi- 
ously. 

She looked at him steadily, her scornful mouth firm 
as his own. ‘‘ I am what you have made me,” she said 
slowly. “Why quarrel with the result? You have 
brought me up to ignore the restrictions attached to my 
sex; you now round on me and throw them in my face. 
All my life you have set me an example of selfishness 
and obstinacy. Can you wonder that I have profited by 
it? You have made me as hard as yourself, and you 
now profess surprise at the determination your training 
has forced upon me. You are illogical. It is your 
fault, not mine. There was bound to be a clash som^e day. 
It has come sooner than I expected, that’s all. Up til! 
now my inclinations have gone with yours, but this seems 
to be the parting of the ways. As I reminded you be- 
fore, I am my own mistress, and I will submit to no 
interference with my actions. Please understand that 
clearly, Aubrey. I don’t want to wrangle any more. I 
will join you in New York as I promised. I am not in 
the habit of breaking my promises, but my life is my own 
to deal with, and I will deal with it exactly as I wish and 
not as any one else wishes. I will do what I choose when 
and how I choose, and I will never obey any will but my 
own.” 

Sir Aubrey’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “ Then I hope 
to Heaven that one day you will fall into the hands of a 
man who will make you obey,” he cried wrathfully. 

Her scornful mouth curled still more scornfully. 
“ Then Heaven help him ! ” she retorted scathingly, and 
turned away to her tent. 

But, alone, her anger gave way to amusement. It had 


THE SHEIK 


29 


been something, after all, to rouse the lazy Aubrey to 
wrath. She knew exactly the grievance he had been nurs- 
ing against her during the last few weeks in Biskra. 
Though he travelled perpetually and often in remote and 
desolate places, he travelled with the acme of comfort 
and the minimum of inconveniences. He put himself out 
for nothing, and the inevitable difficulties that accrued 
fell on Diana^s younger and less blase shoulders. She 
had always known the uses he put her to and the con- 
venience she was to him. He might have some latent 
feelings with regard to the inadvisability of her behavior, 
he might even have some prickings of conscience on the 
subject of his upbringing of her, but it was thoughts 
of his own comfort that were troubling him most. That 
she knew, and the knowledge was not conducive to 
any kinder feeling towards him. He always had been 
and always would be supremely selfish. The whole of 
their life together had been conducted to suit his con- 
veniences and not hers. She knew, too, why her com- 
pany was particularly desired on his visit to America. 
It was a hunting trip, out not the kind that they were 
usually accustomed to: it was a wife and not big game 
that was taking Sir Aubrey across the ocean on this 
occasion. It had been in his mind for some time as an 
inevitable and somewhat unpleasant necessity. Women 
bored him, and the idea of marriage was distasteful, but 
a son to succeed him was imperative — a Mayo must 
be followed by a Mayo. An heir was essential for the 
big property that the family had held for hundreds of 
years. No woman had ever attracted him, but of all 
women he had met American women were less actively 
irritating to him, and so it was to America that he turned 


THE SHEIK 


30 

in search of a wife. He proposed to take a house in 
New York for a few months and later on in Newport, 
and it was for that that Diana’s company was considered 
indispensable. She would save him endless trouble, as 
all arrangements could be left in her hands and Stephens’. 
Having made up his mind to go through with a pro- 
ceeding that he regarded in the light of a sacrifice on 
the family altar, his wish was to get it over and done 
with as soon as possible, and Diana’s interference in his 
plans had exasperated him. It was the first time that 
their wills had crossed, and she shrugged her shoulders 
impatiently, with a grimace at the recollection. A little 
more and it would have degenerated into a vulgar quarrel. 
She banished Aubrey and his selfishness resolutely from 
her mind. It was very hot, and she lay very still in the 
narrow cot, wishing she had not been so rigid in the 
matter of its width, and wondering if a sudden movement 
in the night would precipitate her into the bath that stood 
alongside. She thought regretfully of a punkah, and 
then smiled derisively at herself. 

‘‘ Sybarite ! ” she murmured sleepily. ** You need a 
few discomforts.” 

She was almost aggressively cheerful next morning at 
breakfast and for the time that they lingered at the oasis 
after the baggage camels had started. Sir Aubrey was 
morose and silent, and she exchanged most of her badi- 
nage with Stephens, who was superintending the packing 
of the tiffin basket that would accompany her in charge of 
the man who had been selected as her personal servant, 
and wffio was waiting, with Mustafa Ali and about ten 
men, to ride with her. 


THE SHEIK 


31 

The time for starting came. Stephens was fussing 
about the horse that Diana was to ride. 

Everything all right, Stephens ? Up to your stand- 
ard? Don’t look so glum. I wish you were coming to 
look after me, but it couldn’t be done. Sir Aubrey would 
be lost without you.” 

The idea of a tour without Stephens in the background 
seemed suddenly momentous, and the smile she gave him 
was more serious than she meant it to be. She went 
back to her brother, who was pulling his moustache sav- 
agely. “ I don’t think there’s any use waiting any longer. 
You won’t want to hurry yourself too much, and you 
will want to be in Biskra in time for dinner,” she said 
as casually as she could. 

He swung towards her. Diana, it’s still not too late 
to change your mind. For Heaven’s sake give up this 
folly. It’s tempting Providence.” For the first time 
there was a genuine ring in his voice, and for a moment 
Diana wavered, but only for a moment. Then she looked 
at him with a slow smile. 

“ Do I fall on your neck and say, ‘ Take me back, dear 
Guardian; I will be good,’ or do I prostrate myself at 
your feet and knock my head on your boots, and whine, 
in the language of the country, ‘ Hearing is obeying ’ ? 
Don’t be ridiculous, Aubrey. You can’t expect me to 
change my mind at the eleventh hour. It’s perfectly 
safe. Mustafa Ali will take care that everything goes 
smoothly. He has his reputation in Biskra to think of. 
You know the character the authorities gave him. He is 
not likely to throw that away. In any case I can take 
care of myself, thanks to your training. I don’t mind 


32 


THE SHEIK 


owning to being conceited about my shooting. Even you 
admit that I am a credit to your teaching.” 

With a gay little laugh she whipped out the ivory- 
mounted revolver, and aiming at a low flat rock, some 
distance away, fired. She was an unusually good revolver 
shot, but this time she seemed to have missed. There was 
no mark on the stone. Diana stared at it stupidly, a 
frown of perplexity creasing her forehead. Then she 
looked at her brother, and back to the revolver in her 
hand. 

Sir Aubrey swore. “ Diana ! lat a senseless piece 
of bravado ! ” he cried angrily. 

She took no notice of him. She was still staring at 
the smooth rock face. “ I don’t understand it. How 
could I miss? It’s as big as a house,” she murmured 
thoughtfully, and raised the revolver again. 

But Sir Aubrey caught her wrist. ** For God’s sake 
don’t make a fool of yourself a second time. You have 
lowered your prestige quite enough already,” he said in 
a low voice, with a glance at the group of watching Arabs. 

Diana jerked the little weapon back into its place re- 
luctantly. ‘‘ I don’t understand it,” she said again. ‘‘ It 
must be the light.” She mounted and wheeled her horse 
alongside of Sir Aubrey’s, and held out her hand. 

Good-bye, Aubrey. Expect me a month after you ar- 
rive. I will cable to you from Cherbourg. Good luck! 
I shall roll up in time to be best man,” she added, laughing, 
and with a nod to Mustafa Ali she turned her horse’s 
head southwards. 

For a long time she rode in silence. The quarrel 
with Aubrey had left a nasty taste in her mouth. She 
knew that what she was doing was considered unconven- 


THE SHEIK 


33 

tional, but she had been brought up to be unconventional. 
She had never even thought, when she planned her tour, 
of possible criticism; it would have made no difference 
to her if she had thought, and she had been amazed and 
amused at the sensation that her proposed trip had caused. 
The publicity to which it had given rise had annoyed 
her intensely; she had been scornful that people could 
not occupy themselves with their own affairs and leave 
her to deal with hers. But that Aubrey should join in 
the general criticism and present such a complete volte-face 
to the opinions he h^/d always held was beyond her com- 
prehension. She was angry with him, and contempt was 
mingled with her anger. It was inconsistent with the 
whole of his lifelong attitude toward her, and the discov- 
ery of his altered ideas left her rather breathless and more 
than ever determined to adhere to her own deeply-rooted 
convictions. Aubrey was responsible for them, he had 
instilled them, and if he chose now to abandon them that 
was his look-out. For her own part she saw no reason 
to change principles she had been brought up in. If 
Aubrey really thought there was danger in this expedition 
he could have sacrificed himself for once and come with 
her. As Jim Arbuthnot had said, it was only a month, 
a negligible length of time, but Aubrey’s selfishness would 
not allow him to make that concession any more than her 
own obstinacy would allow her to give way. It was too 
much to expect. And this was the desert ! It was the 
expedition that she had dreamed of and planned for years. 
She could not give it up. The idea of danger brought 
a little laugh to her lips. How could anything in the 
desert hurt her? It had been calling to her always. 
There was nothing strange about the scene that lay all 


34 


THE SHEIK 


around her. Her surroundings seemed oddly familiar. 
The burning sun overhead in the cloudless sky, the shim- 
mering haze rising from the hot, dry ground, the feathery 
outline of some clustering palm trees in a tiny distant 
oasis were like remembrances that she watched again with 
a feeling of gladness that was fuller and deeper than 
anything that she had been conscious of before. She was 
radiantly happy — happy in the sense of her youth and 
strength, her perfect physical fitness, happy in the capacity 
of her power of enjoyment, happy with the touch of the 
keen, nervous horse between her knees, exhilarated with 
her new authority. She had looked forward so eagerly, 
and realisation was proving infinitely greater than antici- 
pation. And for a whole month this perfect happiness 
was to be hers. She thought of her promise to Aubrey 
with impatience. To give up the joyous freedom of the 
desert for the commonplace round of American social 
life seemed preposterous. The thought of the weeks in 
New York were frankly tedious; Newport would be a 
little less bad, for there were alleviations. The only 
hope was that Aubrey would find the wife he was look- 
ing for quickly and release her from an obligation that 
was going to be very wearisome. Aubrey was counting 
on her, and it would be unsporting to let him down ; she 
would have to keep her promise, but she would be glad 
when it was over. Aubrey married would settle definitely 
the possibility of any further disagreements- between 
them. She wondered vaguely what the future Lady 
Mayo would be like, but she did not expend much pity on 
her. American girls as a rule were well able to care for 
themselves. She stroked her horse with a little smile. 
Aubrey and his possible wife seemed singularly unin- 


THE SHEIK 35 

teresting beside the vivid interest of the moment. A car- 
avan that had been visible for a long time coming towards 
them drew nearer, and Diana reined in to watch the long 
line of slow, lurching camels passing. The great beasts, 
with their disdainful tread and long, swaying necks, never 
failed to interest her. It was a large caravan; the bales 
on the camels’ backs looked heavy, and beside the merch- 
ants on riding camels and a motley crowd of followers — 
some on lean little donkeys and others on foot — there 
was an armed guard of mounted men. It took some 
time to pass. One of two of the camels carried huddled 
figures, swathed and shapeless with a multitude of cover- 
ings, that Diana knew must be women. The contrast be- 
tween them and herself was almost ridiculous. It made 
her feel stifled even to look at them. She wondered what 
their lives were like, if they ever rebelled against the 
drudgery and restrictions that were imposed upon them, 
if they ever longed for the freedom that she was revelling 
in, or if custom and usage were so strong that they had 
no thoughts beyond the narrow life they led. The thought 
of those lives filled her with aversion. The idea of mar- 
riage — even in its highest form, based on mutual con- 
sideration and mutual forbearance — was repugnant to 
her. She thought of it with a shiver of absolute repul- 
sion. To Aubrey it was distasteful, but to her cold, 
reserved temperament it was a thing of horror and dis- 
gust. That women could submit to the degrading inti- 
macy and fettered existence of married life filled her with 
scornful wonder. To be bound irrevocably to the will 
and pleasure of a man who would have the right to de- 
mand obedience in all that constituted marriage and the 
strength to enforce those claims revolted her. For a 


i 


THE SHEIK 


36 

Western woman it was bad enough, but for the women 
of the East, mere slaves of the passions of the men who 
owned them, unconsidered, disregarded, reduced to the 
level of animals, the bare idea made her quiver and bring 
her hand down heavily on her horse’s neck. The nervous 
creature started sharply and she let him go, calling to 
Mustafa Ali as she cantered past him. He had ridden 
to meet the caravan and was dismounted, deep in conver- 
sation with the chief of the armed guard. With the 
thoughts that it had provoked the caravan had lost all 
interest for Diana. She wanted to get away from it, to 
forget it, and she rode on unmindful of her escort, who, 
like her guide, had stopped to speak with the traders. 
Diana’s horse was fleet, and it was some time before they 
caught her up. There was a look of annoyance on 
Mustafa AH’s face as she turned on hearing them behind 
her and signed to him to ride beside her. 

Mademoiselle is not interested in the caravan ? ” he 
asked curiously. 

No,” she replied shortly, and asked for some details 
connected with her own expedition. The man talked 
easily and well, in fluent French, and after giving the 
required information, volunteered anecdotes relating to 
various well-known people whom he had guided in the 
desert. Diana watched him interestedly. He seemed a 
man of about middle age, though it was difflcult to guess 
more than approximately, for the thick, peaked beard that 
hid both mouth and chin made him look older than he 
really was. His beard had been his only drawback from 
Diana’s point of view, for she judged men by their mouths. 
Eyes were untrustworthy evidences of character in an 
Oriental, for they usually wavered under a European’s. 


THE SHEIK 


37 


Mustafa Alik's were wavering now as she looked at him, 
and it occurred to her that they had not seemed nearly 
so shifty in Biskra when she had engaged him. But she 
attached no importance to the thought, and dismissed it 
as much less interesting than the great difference dis- 
played in their respective modes of riding. The Arab's 
exaggeratedly short stirrup would have given her agonies 
of cramp. She pointed the difference with a laugh of 
amusement and drew the man on to speak of his horses. 
The one Diana was riding was an unusually fine beast, 
and had been one of the greatest points in the guide’s 
favour when he had brought it for her inspection. He 
was enthusiastic in its praise, but volubly vague as to its 
antecedents, which left Diana with the conviction that 
the animal had either been stolen or acquired in Some 
irregular manner and that it would be tactless to pursue 
further inquiries. After all it was no business of hers. 
It was enough that her trip was to be conducted on the 
back of a horse that it was a pleasure to ride and whose 
vagaries promised to give interest to what otherwise 
might have been monotonous. Some of the horses that 
she had seen in Biskra had been the veriest jades. 

She asked Mustafa Ali about the country through 
which they were passing, but he did not seem to have 
much information that was really of interest, or what 
seemed important to him appeared trivial to her, and he 
constantly brought the conversation back to Biskra, of 
which she was tired, or to Oran, of which she knew 
nothing. The arrival at a little oasis where the guide sug- 
gested that the midday halt might be made was opportune. 
Diana swung to the ground, and, tossing down her gloves, 
gave herself a shake. It was hot work riding in the 


THE SHEIK 


38 

burning sun and the rest would be delightful. She had 
a thoroughly healthy appetite, and superintended the lay- 
ing out of her lunch with interest. It was the last time 
that it would be as daintily packed. Stephens was an 
artist with a picnic basket. She was going to miss 
Stephens. She finished her lunch quickly, and then, with 
her back propped against a palm tree, a cigarette in her 
mouth, her arms clasped round her knees, she settled down 
happily, overlooking the desert. The noontime hush 
seemed over everything. Not a breath of wind stirred 
the tops of the palms ; a lizard on a rock near her was the 
only living thing she could see. She glanced over her 
shoulder. The men, with their big cloaks drawn over 
their heads, were lying asleep, or at any rate appeared to 
be so ; only Mustafa Ali was on foot, standing at the edge 
of the oasis, staring fixedly in the direction in which they 
would ride later. 

Diana threw the end of her cigarette at the lizard and 
laughed at its precipitant flight. She had no desire to 
follow the example of her escort and sleep. She was 
much too happy to lose a minute of her enjoyment by 
wasting it in rest that she did not require. She was per- 
fectly content and satisfied with herself and her outlook. 
She had not a care or a thought in the world. There 
was not a thing that she would have changed or altered. 
Her life had always been happy; she had extracted the 
last ounce of pleasure out of every moment of it. That 
her happiness was due to the wealth that had enabled her 
to indulge in the sports and constant travel that made up 
the sum total of her desires never occurred to her. That 
what composed her pleasure in life was possible only 
because she was rich enough to buy the means of gratify- 


THE SHEIK 


39 

ing it did not enter her head. She thought of her wealth 
no more than of her beauty. The business connected 
with her coming of age, when the big fortune left to her 
by her father passed unreservedly into her own hands, was 
a wearisome necessity that had been got through as 
expeditiously as possible, with as little attention to detail 
as the old family lawyer had allowed, and an absence of 
interest that was evidenced' in the careless scrawl she at- 
tached to each document that was given her to sign. The 
mere money in itself was nothing ; it was only a means to 
an end. She had never even realised how much was 
expended on the continuous and luxurious expeditions 
that she had made with Sir Aubrey; her own individual 
tastes were simple, and apart from the expensive equip- 
ment that was indispensable for their hunting trips, and 
which was Aubrey^s choosing, not hers, she was not ex- 
travagant. The long list of figures that had been so 
boring during the tedious hours that she had spent with 
the lawyer, grudging every second of the glorious Septem- 
ber morning that she had had to waste in the library when 
she was longing to be out of doors, had conveyed nothing 
to her beyond the fact that in future when she wanted 
anything she would be put to the trouble of writing out 
an absurd piece of paper herself, instead of leaving the 
matter in Aubrey’s hands, as she had done hitherto. 

She had hardly understood and had been much em- 
barrassed by the formal and pedantic congratulations with 
which the lawyer had concluded his business statement. 
She was not aware that she was an object of congratula- 
tion. It all seemed very stupid and uninteresting. Of 
real hfe she knew nothing and of the ordinary ties and 
attachments of family life less than nothing. Aubrey’s 


40 


THE SHEIK 


cold, loveless training had debarred her from all affec- 
tion; she had grown up oblivious of it. Love did not 
exist for her; from even the thought of passion she shrank 
instinctively with the same fastidiousness as she did from 
actual physical uncleanliness. 

That she had awakened an emotion that she did not 
understand herself in certain men had been an annoyance 
that had become more intolerable with repetition. She 
had hated them and herself impartially, and she had 
scorned them fiercely. She had never been so gentle and 
so human with any one as she had been with Jim Arbuth- 
not, and that only because she was so radiantly happy that 
night that not even the distasteful reminder that she was 
a woman whom a man coveted was able to disturb her 
happiness. But here there was no need to dwell on 
annoyances or distasteful reminders. 

Diana dug her heels into the soft ground with a little 
wriggle of content ; here she would be free from anything 
that could mar her perfect enjoyment of life as it ap- 
peared to her. Here there was nothing to spoil her 
pleasure. Her head had drooped during her thoughts, 
and for the last few minutes her eyes had been fixed on 
the dusty tips of her riding-boots. But she raised them 
now and looked up with a great content in them. It was 
the happiest day of her life. She had forgotten the 
quarrel with Aubrey. She had put from her the chain 
of ideas suggested by the passing caravan. There was 
nothing discordant to disturb the perfect harmony of her 
mind. 

A shade beside her made her turn her head. Mustafa 
Ali salaamed obsequiously. “It is time to start. Mad- 
emoiselle.” 


THE SHEIK 


41 

Diana looked up in surprise and then back over her 
shoulder at the escort. The men were already mounted. 
The smile faded from her eyes. Mustafa Ali was guide, 
but she was head of this expedition; if her guide had not 
realised this he would have to do so now. She glanced 
at the watch on her wrist. 

“ There is plenty of time,” she said coolly. 

Mustafa Ali salaamed again. ‘‘It is a long ride to 
reach the oasis where we must camp to-night,” he in- 
sisted hurriedly. 

Diana crossed one brown boot over the other, and 
scooping up some sand in the palm of her hand trickled 
it through her fingers slowly. “ Then we can ride faster,” 
she replied quietly, looking at the shining particles glis- 
tening in the sun. 

Mustafa Ali made a movement of impatience and per- 
sisted doggedly. “ Mademoiselle would do v/ell to start.” 

Diana looked up swiftly with angry eyes. Under the 
man’s suave manner and simple words a peremptory tone 
had crept into his voice. She sat quite still, her fingers 
raking the warm sand, and under her haughty stare the 
guide’s eyes wavered and turned away. “We will start 
when I choose, Mustafa Ali,” she said brusquely. “ You 
may give orders to your men, but you will take your 
orders from me. I will tell you when I am ready. You 
may go.” 

Still he hesitated, swaying irresolutely backwards and 
forwards on his heels. 

Diana snapped her fingers over her shoulder, a trick she 
had learned from a French officer in Biskra. “ I said 
go ! ” she repeated sharply. She took no notice of his 
going and did not look back to see what orders he gave 


THE SHEIK 


42 

the men. She glanced at her watch again. Perhaps it 
was growing late, perhaps the camp was a longer ride 
than she had thought; but Mustafa AH must learn his 
lesson if they rode till midnight to reach the oasis. She 
pushed her obstinate chin out further and then smiled 
again suddenly. She hoped that the night would fall 
before they reached their destination. There had been 
one or two moonlight riding picnics out from Biskra, and 
the glamour of the desert nights had gone to Diana’s head. 
This riding into the unknown away from the noisy, chat- 
tering crowd who had spoiled the perfect stillness of the 
night would be infinitely more perfect. She gave a little 
sigh of regret as she thought of it. It was not really 
practical. Though she would wait nearly another hour 
to allow the fact of her authority to sink into Mustafa 
Ali’s brain she would have to hasten afterwards to arrive 
at the camp before darkness set in. The men were un- 
used to her ways and she to theirs. She would not have 
Stephens’ help to-night; she would have to depend on 
herself to order everything as she wished it, and it was 
easier done in daylight. One hour would not make much 
difiference. The horses had more in them than had been 
taken out of them this morning; they could be pushed 
along a bit faster with no harm happening to them. She 
eyed her watch from time to time with a grin of amuse- 
ment, but suppressed the temptation to look and see how 
Mustafa Ali was taking it, for her action might be seen 
and misconstrued. 

When the time she had set herself was up she rose 
and walked slowly towards the group of Arabs. The 
guide’s face was sullen, but she took no notice, and, when 
they started, motioned him to her side again with a 


THE SHEIK 


43 

reference to Biskra that provoked a flow of words. It 
was the last place she wanted to hear of, but it was one 
of which he spoke the readiest, and she knew it was not 
wise to allow him to remain silent to sulk. His ill-temper 
would evaporate with the sound of his own voice. She 
rode forward steadily, silent herself, busy with her own 
thoughts, heedless of the voice beside her, and uncon- 
scious of the fact when it became silent. 

She had been quite right about the capabilities of the 
horses. They respond<=d without any apparent effort to 
the further demand made of them. The one in particular 
that Diana was riding moved in a swift, easy gallop that 
was the perfection of motion. 

They had been riding for some hours when they came 
to the first oasis that had been sighted since leaving the 
one where the midday halt was made. Diana pulled up 
her horse to look at it, for it was unusually beautiful in 
the luxuriousness and arrangement of its group of palms 
and leafy bushes. Some pigeons were cooing softly, 
hidden from sight amongst the trees, with a plaintive 
melancholy that somehow seemed in keeping with the de- 
serted spot. Beside the well, forming a triangle, stood 
what had been three particularly fine palm trees, but the 
tops had been broken off about twenty feet up from the 
ground, and the mutilated trunks reared themselves bare 
and desolate-looking. Diana took off her heavy helmet 
and tossed it to the man behind her, and sat looking at 
the oasis, while the faint breeze that had sprung up stirred 
her thick, short hair, and cooled her hot head. The sad 
notes of the pigeons and the broken palms, that with their 
unusualness vaguely suggested a tragedy, lent an air of 
mysteiy to the place that pleased her. 


44 


THE SHEIK 


She turned eagerly to Mustafa AH. “ Why did you not 
arrange for the camp to be here? It would have been a 
long enough ride.” 

The man fidgeted in his saddle, fingering his beard 
uneasily, his eyes wandering past Diana’s and looking at 
the broken trees. “ No man rests here. Mademoiselle, 
It is the place of devils. The curse of Allah is upon it,’^ 
he muttered, touching his horse with his heel, and making 
it sidle restlessly — an obvious hint that Diana ignored. 

“ I like it,” she persisted obstinately. 

He made a quick gesture with his fingers. “ It is ac- 
cursed. Death lurks beside those broken palm trees,” he 
said, looking at her curiously. 

She jerked her head with a sudden smile. ** For you, 
perhaps, but not for me. Allah’s curse rests only upon 
those who fear it. But since you are afraid, Mustafa AH, 
let us go on.” She gave a little light laugh, and Mustafa 
AH kicked his horse savagely as he followed. 

The distance before her spread out cleanly with the 
sharp distinctness that precedes the setting sun. She rode 
on until she began to wonder if it would indeed be night- 
fall before she reached her destination. They had ridden 
longer and faster than had ever been' intended. It seemed 
odd that they had not overtaken the baggage camels. She 
looked at her watch with a frown. “ Where is your 
caravan, Mustafa AH ? ” she called. I see no sign of an 
oasis, and the darkness will come.” 

“If Mademoiselle had started earlier — ” he said sul- 
lenly. 

“ If I had started earlier it would still have been too 
far. To-morrow we will arrange it otherwise,” she said 
firmly. 


THE SHEIK 


45 


** Tomorrow — he growled indistinctly. 

Diana looked at him keenly. “What did you say?” 
she asked haughtily. 

His hand went to his forehead- mechanically. “To- 
morrow is with Allah!” he murmured with unctuous 
piety. 

A retort trembled on Diana’s lips, but her attention 
was distracted from her annoying guide to a collection of 
black specks far off across the desert. They were too 
far away for her to see clearly, but she pointed to them, 
peering at them intently. “ See 1 ” she cried. “ Is that 
the caravan ? ” 

“ As Allah wills 1 ” he replied more piously than before, 
and Diana wished, with a sudden feeling of irritation, 
that he would stop relegating his responsibilities to the 
Deity and take a little more active personal interest in 
his missing camel train. 

The black specks were moving fast across the level 
plain. Very soon Diana saw that it was not the slow, 
leisurely camels that they were overtaking, but a band 
of mounted men who were moving swiftly towards them. 
They had seen nobody since the traders* caravan had 
passed them in the morning. For Diana the Arabs that 
were approaching were even more interesting than the 
caravan had been. She had seen plenty of caravans ar- 
riving and departing from Biskra, but, though she had 
seen small parties of tribesmen constantly in the vicinity 
of the town, she had never seen so large a body of mounted 
men before, nor had she seen them as they were here, 
one with the wild picturesqueness of their surroundings. 
It was impossible to count how many there were, for they 
were riding in close formation, the wind filling their great 


THE SHEIK 


46 

white cloaks, making each man look gigantic. Diana’s 
interest flamed up excitedly. It was like passing another 
ship upon a hitherto empty sea. They seemed to add a 
desired touch to the grim loneliness of the scene that had 
begun to be a little awe-inspiring. Perhaps she was hun- 
gry, perhaps she was tired, or perhaps she was only an- 
noyed by the bad arrangements of her guide, but before 
the advent of the mounted Arabs Diana had been con- 
scious of a feeling of oppression, as if the silent desola- 
tion of the desert was weighing heavily upon her, but the 
body of swiftly moving men and horses had changed the 
aspect utterly. An atmosphere of life and purpose seemed 
to have taken the place of the quiet stagnation that had 
been before their coming. 

The distance between the two parties decreased rapidly. 
Diana, intent on the quickly advancing horsemen, spurred 
ahead of her guide with sparkling eyes. They were near 
enough now to see that the horses were beautiful crea- 
tures and that each man rode magnificently. They were 
armed too, their rifles being held in front of them, not 
slung on their backs as she had seen in Biskra. They 
passed quite close to her, only a few yards away — a 
solid square, the orderly ranks suggesting training and 
discipline that she had not looked for. Not a head turned 
in her direction as they went by and the pace was not 
slackened. Fretted by the proximity of the galloping 
horses, her own horse reared impatiently, but Diana pulled 
him in, turning in her saddle to watch the Arabs pass, her 
breath coming quick with excitement. 

“ What are they ? ’’ she called out to Mustafa Ali, who 
had dropped some way behind her. But he, too, was 
looking back at the horsemen, and did not seem to hear 


THE SHEIK 


47 

her question. Her escort had lagged still further behind 
her guide and were some distance away. Diana watched 
the rapidly moving, compact square eagerly with appre- 
ciatory eyes — it was a beautiful sight. Then she gave 
a little gasp. The galloping horses had drawn level with 
the last stragglers of her own party, and just beyond they 
stopped suddenly. Diana would not have believed it 
possible that they could have stopped so suddenly and in 
such close formation while travelling at such a pace. The 
tremendous strain on the bridles flung the horses far back 
on their haunches. But there was no time to dwell on the 
wonderful horsemanship or training of the men. Events 
moved too rapidly. The solid square split up and length- 
ened out into a long line of two men riding abreast. 
Wheeling behind the last of Mustafa’s men they came 
back even faster than they had passed, and circled widely 
round Diana and her attendants. Bewildered by this 
manoeuvre she watched them with a puzzled frown, striv- 
ing to soothe her horse, who was nearly frantic with 
excitement. Twice they galloped round her little band, 
their long cloaks fluttering, their rifles tossing in their 
hands. Diana was growing impatient. It was very fine 
to watch, but time and the light were both going. She 
would have been glad if the demonstration had occurred 
earlier in the day, when there would have been more time 
to enjoy it. She turned again to Mustafa Ali to suggest 
that they had better try to move on, but he had gone 
further from her, back towards his own. She wrestled 
with her nervous mount, trying to turn him to join her 
guide, when a sudden burst of rifle shots made her start 
and her horse bound violently. Then she laughed. That 
would be the end of the demonstration, a parting salute, 


THE SHEIK 


48 

the decharge de mousqueterie beloved of the Arab. She 
turned her head from her refractory horse to look at them 
ride off, and the laugh died away on her lips. It was not 
a farewell salute. The rifles that the Arabs were firing 
were not pointing up into the heavens, but aiming straight 
at her and her escort. And as she stared with suddenly 
startled eyes, unable to do anything with her plunging 
horse, Mustafa Ali’s men were blotted out from her sight, 
cut off by a band of Arabs who rode between her and 
them. Mustafa Ali himself was lying forward on the 
neck of his horse, who was standing quiet amidst the gem 
eral confusion. Then there came another volley, and the 
guide slid slowly out of his saddle on to the ground, and 
at the same time Diana’s horse went off with a wild leap 
that nearly unseated her. 

Until they started shooting the thought that the Arabs 
could be hostile had not crossed her mind. She imagined 
that they were merely showing off with the childish love 
of display which she knew was characteristic. The 
French authorities had been right after all. Diana’s first 
feeling was one of contempt for an administration that 
made possible such an attempt so near civilisation. Her 
second a fleeting amusement at the thought of how Aubrey 
would jeer. But her amusement passed as the real seri- 
ousness of the attack came home to her. For the first 
time it occurred to her that her guide’s descent from his 
saddle was due to a wound and not to the fear that she 
had at first disgustedly attributed to him. But nobody 
had seemed to put up any kind of a fight, she thought 
wrath fully. She tugged angrily at her horse’s mouth, 
but the bit was between his teeth and he tore on fran- 
tically. Her own position made her furious. Her guide 


THE SHEIK 


49 


was wounded, his men surrounded, and she was ignomin- 
iously being run away with by a bolting horse. If she 
could only turn the wretched animal It would only 
be a question of ransom, of that she was positive. She 
must get back somehow to the others and arrange terms. 
It was an annoyance, of course, but after all it added a 
certain piquancy to her trip, it would be an experience. 
It was only a “ hold-up.” She did not suppose the Arabs 
had even really meant to hurt any one, but they were 
excited and some one’s shot, aimed wide, had found an 
unexpected billet. It could only be that. It was too near 
Biskra for any real danger, she argued with herself, still 
straining on the reins. She would not admit that there 
was any danger, though her heart was beating in a way 
that it had never done before. Then as she hauled in- 
effectually at the bridle with all her strength there came 
from behind her the sound of a long, shrill whistle. Her 
horse pricked up his ears and she was conscious that his 
pace sensibly lessened. Instinctively she looked behind. 
A solitary Arab was riding after her and as she looked 
she realised that his horse was gaining on hers. The 
thought drove every idea of stopping her runaway from 
her and made her dig her spurs into him instead. There 
was a sinister air of deliberation in the way in which the 
Arab was following her; he was riding her down. 

Diana’s mouth closed firmly and a new keenness came 
into her steady eyes. It was one thing to go back volun- 
tarily to make terms with the men who had attacked her 
party ; it was quite another thing to be deliberately chased 
across the desert by an Arab freebooter. Her obstinate 
chin was almost square. Then the shadow of a laugh 
flickered in her eyes and curved her mouth. New ex- 


THE SHEIK 


50 

periences were crowding in upon her to-day. She had 
often wondered what the feelings of a hunted creature 
were. She seemed in a fair way of finding out. She 
had always stoutly maintained that the fox enjoyed the 
run as much as the hounds ; that remained to be proved, 
but, in any case, she would give this hound a run for 
his money. She could ride, and there seemed plenty yet 
in the frightened animal under her. She bent down, 
lying low against his neck with a little, reckless laugh, 
coaxing him with all her knowledge and spurring him 
alternately. But soon her mood changed. She frowned 
anxiously as she looked at the last rays of the setting sun. 
It would be dark very soon. She could not go chasing 
through the night with this tiresome Arab at her heels. 
The humour seemed to have died out of the situation and 
Diana began to get angry. In the level country that 
surrounded her there were no natural features that could 
afford cover or aid in any way ; there seemed nothing for 
it but to own herself defeated and pull up — T she could. 
An idea of trying to dodge him and of returning of her 
own free will was dismissed at once as hopeless. She 
^ had seen enough in her short glimpse of the Arabs’ tactics 
when they had passed her to know that she was dealing 
with a finished horseman on a perfectly trained horse, 
and that her idea could never succeed. But, perversely, 
she felt that to that particular Arab following her she 
would never give in. She would- ride till she dropped, 
or the horse did, before that. 

The whistle came again, and again, in spite of her 
relentless spurring, her horse checked his pace. A sudden 
inspiration came to her. Perhaps it was the horse she 
was riding that was the cause of all the trouble. It was 


THE SHEIK 


51 

certainly the Arab's whistle that had made it moderate 
its speed; it was responding clearly to a signal that it 
knew. Her guide’s reluctance to give any particulars of 
his acquisition of the horse came back to her. There could 
not be much doubt about it. The animal had unques- 
tionably been stolen, and either belonged to or was known 
to the party of Arabs who had met them. 

The naivete that paraded a stolen horse through the 
desert at the risk of meeting its former owner made her 
smile in spite of her annoyance, but it was not a pleasant 
smile, as her thoughts turned from the horse to its present 
owner. The sum of Mustafa Ali’s delinquencies was 
mounting up fast. But it was his affair, not hers. In the 
meantime she had paid for the horse to ride through the 
desert, not to be waylaid by Arab bandits. Her temper 
was going fast. 

She urged the horse on with all her power, but per- 
ceptibly he was slowing up. She flashed another back- 
ward look. The Arab was close behind her — closer than 
she had been aware. She had a momentary glimpse of a 
big white figure, dark piercing eyes, and white gleaming 
teeth, and passionate rage filled her. With no thought 
of what the consequences or retaliation might be, with no 
thought at all beyond a wild desire to rid herself of her 
pursuer, driven by a sudden madness which seemed to 
rise up in her and which she could not control, she 
clutched her revolver and fired twice, full in the face of 
the man who was following her. He did not even flinch 
and a low laugh of amusement came from him. And at 
the sound of his laugh Diana’s mouth parched suddenly, 
and a cold shiver rippled across her spine. A strange 
feeling that she had never experienced before went 


THE SHEIK 


52 

through her. She had missed again as she had missed 
this morning. How, she did not know; it was inexpli- 
cable, but it was a fact, and a fact that left her with a 
feeling of powerlessness. She dropped the useless re- 
volver, trying vainly to force her horse’s pace, but inch 
by inch the fiery chestnut that the Arab was riding crept 
up nearer alongside. She would not turn to look again, 
but glancing sideways she could see its small, wicked- 
looking head, with flat laid ears and vicious, bloodshot 
eyes, level with her elbow. For a moment or two it re- 
mained there, then with a sudden spurt the chestnut 
forged ahead, and as it shot past it swerved close in 
beside her, and the man, rising in his stirrups and leaning 
towards her, flung a pair of powerful arms around her, 
and, with a jerk, swung her clear of the saddle and on 
to his own horse in front of him. His movement had 
been so quick she was unprepared and unable to resist. 
For a moment she was stunned, then her senses came 
back to her and she struggled wildly, but, stifled in the 
thick folds of the Arab’s robes, against which her face 
was crushed, and held in a grip that seemed to be slowly 
suffocating her, her struggles were futile. The hard, 
muscular arm round her hurt her acutely, her ribs seemed 
to be almost breaking under its weight and strength, it 
was nearly impossible to breathe with the close contact 
of his body. She was unusually strong for a girl, but 
against this steely strength that held her she was help- 
less. And for a time the sense of her helplessness and 
the pain that any resistance to the arm wrapped round 
her gave her made her lie quiet. She felt the Arab check 
his horse, felt the chestnut wheel, spinning high on his 
hind legs, and then bound forward again. 


THE SHEIK 


5;i 

Her feelings were indescribable. She did not know 
what to think. Her mind felt jarred. She was unable 
to frame any thoughts coherently. What had happened 
was so unexpected, so preposterous, that no conclusion 
seemed adequate. Only rage filled her — blind, passion- 
ate rage against the man who had dared to touch her, who 
had dared to lay his hands on her, and those hands the 
hands of a native. A shiver of revulsion ran through her. 
She was choking with fury, with anger and with disgust. 
The ignominy of her plight hurt her pride badly. She had 
been outridden, swept from her saddle as if she were a 
puppet, and compelled to bear the proximity of the man’s 
own hateful body and the restraint of his arms. No one 
had ever dared to touch her before. No one had ever 
dared to handle her as she was being handled now. How 
was it going to end ? Where were they going? With her 
face hidden she had lost all sense of direction. She had 
no idea to what point the horse had turned when he had 
wheeled so suddenly. He was galloping swiftly with con- 
tinual disconcerting bounds that indicated either temper 
or nerves, but the man riding him seemed in no way dis- 
turbed by his horse’s behavior. She could feel him 
swaying easily in the saddle, and even the wildest leaps 
did not cause any slackening of the arm around her. 

But by degrees as she continued to lie still the pressure 
on her body was relieved slightly, and she was able to turn 
her head a little towards the air for which she was almost 
fainting, but not enough to enable her to see what was 
passing around her. She drank in the cool air eagerly. 
Though she could not see she knew that the night had 
come, the night that she had hoped would fall before she 
reached her destination, but which now seemed horrible. 



14 


THE SHEIK 


The fresh strength that the air gave her fanned the cour- 
age that still remained with her. Collecting all her force 
she made a sudden desperate spring, trying to leap clear 
of the arm that now lay almost loosely about her, her 
spurred heels tearing the chestnut’s flank until he reared 
perpendicularly, snorting and trembling. But with a 
quick sweep of his long arm the Arab gathered her back 
into his hold, still struggling fiercely. His arms were 
both round her; he was controlling the maddened horse 
only with the pressure of his knees. 

Doucement, doucement.” She heard the slow, soft 
voice indistinctly, for he was pressing her head again 
closely to him, and she did not know if the words were 
applied to herself or to the horse. She fought to lift 
her head, to escape the grip that held her, straining, striv- 
ing until he spoke again. 

‘‘ Lie still, you little fool ! ” he snarled with sudden 
vehemence, and with brutal hands he forced her to obey 
him, until she wondered if he would leave a single bone 
unbroken in her body, till further resistance was impossi- 
ble. Gasping for breath she yielded to the strength that 
overpowered her, and ceased to struggle. The man 
seemed to know intuitively that she was beaten, and turned 
his undivided attention to his horse with the same low 
laugh of amusement that had sent the strange feeling 
through ^her when her shots had missed him. It had 
puzzled her then, but it grew now with a horrible in- 
tensity, until she knew that it was fear that had come to 
her for the first time in her life — a, strange fear that she 
fought against desperately, but which was gaining on 
her with a force that was sapping her strength from her 
and making her head reel. She did not faint, but her 


/ 


THE SHEIK 


55 

whole body seemed to grow nerveless with the sudden 
realisation of the horror of her position. 

After that Diana lost all sense of time, as she had 
already lost all sense of direction. She did not know if 
it was minutes or hours that passed as they still galloped 
swiftly through the night. She did not know if they were 
alone or if the band of Arabs to which this man belonged 
were riding with them, noiseless over the soft ground. 
What had happened to her guide and his men ? Had they 
been butchered and left where they fell, or were they, too, 
being hurried unwillingly into some obscure region of 
the desert? But for the moment the fate of Mustafa 
AH and his companions did not trouble her very much; 
they had not played a very valiant part in the short en- 
counter, and her own situation swamped her mind to the 
exclusion of everything else. 

The sense of fear was growing on her. She scorned 
and derided it. She tried to convince herself it did not 
exist, but it did exist, torturing her with its strangeness 
and with the thoughts that it engendered. She had an- 
ticipated nothing like this. She had never thought of a 
contingency that would end so, that would induce a situa- 
tion before which her courage was shuddering into pieces 
with the horror that was opening up before her — a 
thing that had always seemed a remote impossibility that 
could never touch her, from even the knowledge of which 
her life with Aubrey had almost shielded her, but which 
now loomed near her, forcing its reality upon her till she 
trembled and great drops of moisture gathered on her 
forehead. 

The Arab moved her position once, roughly, but she 
was glad of the change for it freed her head from the 


THE SHEIK 


56 

Stifling folds of his robes. He did not speak again only 
once when the chestnut shied violently he muttered some- 
thing under his breath. But her satisfaction was short- 
lived. A few minutes afterwards his arm tightened 
round her once more and he twined a fold of his long 
cloak round her head, blinding her. And then she under- 
stood. The galloping horse was pulled in with almost the 
same suddenness that had amazed her when she had first 
seen the Arabs. She felt him draw her close into his arms 
and slip down on to the ground ; there were voices around 
her — confused, unintelligible ; then they died away as she 
felt him carry her a few paces. He set her down and 
unwound the covering from her face. The light that 
shone around her seemed by contrast dazzling with the 
darkness that had gone before. Confused, she clasped 
her hands over her eyes for a moment and then looked 
up slowly. She was in a big, lofty tent, brightly lit by 
two hanging lamps. But she took no heed of her sur- 
roundings; her eyes were fixed on the man who had 
brought her there. He had flung aside the heavy cloak 
that enveloped him from head to foot and was standing 
before her, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in white 
flowing robes, a waistcloth embroidered in black and silver 
wound several times about him, and from the top of 
which showed a revolver that was thrust into the folds. 

Diana’s eyes passed over him slowly till they rested on 
his brown, clean-shaven face, surmounted by crisp, close- 
cut brown hair. It was the handsomest and cruellest 
face that she had ever seen. Her gaze was drawn in- 
stinctively to his. He was looking at her with fierce 
burning eyes that swept her until she felt that the boyish 
clothes that covered her slender limbs were stripped from 


THE SHEIK 57 

her, leaving the beautiful white body bare under his 
passionate stare. 

She shrank back, quivering, dragging the lapels of her 
riding jacket together over her breast with clutching 
hands, obeying an impulse that she hardly understood, 

“ Who are you ? ” she gasped hoarsely. 

“I am the Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan.” 

The name conveyed nothing. She had never heard it 
before. She had spoken without thinking in French, and 
in French he replied to her. 

** Why have you brought me here ? ” she asked, fighting 
down the fear that was growing more terrible every 
moment. 

He repeated her words with a slow smile. •“ Why have 
I brought you here? Bon Dieu! Are you not woman 
enough to know ? ” 

She shrank back further, a wave of colour rushing 
into her face that receded immediately, leaving her whiter 
than she had been before. Her eyes fell under the kin- 
dling flame in his. “ I don’t know what you mean,” she 
whispered faintly, with shaking lips. 

“I think you do.” He laughed softly, and his laugh 
frightened her more than anything he had said. He came 
towards her, and although she was swaying on her feet, 
desperately she tried to evade him, but witli a quick move- 
ment he caught her in his arms. 

Terror, agonising, soul-shaking terror such as she had 
never imagined, took hold of her. The flaming light of 
desire burning in his eyes turned her sick and faint. Her 
body throbbed with the consciousness of a knowledge that 
appalled her. She understood his purpose with a horror 
that made each separate nerve in her system shrink 


THE SHEIK 


58 

against the understanding that had come to her under the 
consuming fire of his ardent gaze, and in the fierce em- 
brace that was drawing her shaking limbs closer and closer 
against the man's own pulsating body. She writhed in his 
arms as he crushed her to him in a sudden access of 
possessive passion. His head bent slowly down to her, 
his eyes burned deeper, and, held immovable, she endured 
the first kiss she had ever received. And the touch of his 
scorching lips, the clasp of his arms, the close union with 
his warm, strong body robbed her of all strength, of all 
power of resistance. 

With a great sob her eyes closed wearily, the hot 
mouth pressed on hers was like a narcotic, drugging her 
almost into insensibility. Numbly she felt him gather 
her high up into his arms, his lips still clinging closely, 
and carry her across the tent through curtains into an 
adjoining room. He laid her down on soft cushions. 

Do not make me wait too long," he whispered, and left 
her. 

And the whispered words sent a shock through her 
that seemed to wrench her deadened nerves apart, gal- 
vanising her into sudden strength. She sprang up with 
wild, despairing eyes, and hands clenched frantically 
across her heaving breast; then, with a bitter cry, she 
dropped on to the floor, her arms flung out across the 
wide, luxurious bed. It was not true ! It was not true ! 
It could not be — this awful thing that had happened to 
her — not to her, Diana Mayo ! It was a dream, a 
ghastly dream that would pass and free her from this 
agony. Shuddering, she raised her head. The strange 
room swam before her eyes. Oh, God! It was not a 
dream. It was real, it was an actual fact from which 


THE SHEIK 


there was no escape. She was trapped, powerless, de- 
fenceless, and behind the heavy curtains near her was the 
man waiting to claim what he had taken. Any moment he 
might come ; the thought sent her shivering closer to the 
ground with limbs that trembled uncontrollably. Her 
courage, that had faced dangers and even death withou' 
flinching, broke down before the horror that awaited he 
It was inevitable; there was no help to be expected, nc 
mercy to be hoped for. She had felt the crushing 
strength against which she was helpless. She would 
struggle, but it would be useless; she would fight, but it 
would make no diflference. Within the tent she was 
alone, ready to his hand like a snared animal ; without, the 
place was swarming with the man’s followers. There was 
nowhere she could turn, there was no one she could turn 
to. The certainty of the accomplishment of what she 
dreaded crushed her with its surety. All power of action 
was gone. She could only wait and suffer in the complete 
moral collapse that overwhelmed her, and that was rend- 
ered greater by her peculiar temperament. Her body 
was aching with the grip of his powerful arms, her mouth 
was bruised with his savage kisses. She clenched her 
hands in anguish. “ Oh, God ! ” she sobbed, with scald- 
ing tears that scorched her cheeks. “ Curse him ! Curse 
him ! ” 

And with the words on her lips he came, silent, noise- 
less, to her side. With his hands on her shoulders he 
forced her to her feet. His eyes were fierce, his stern 
mouth parted in a cruel smile, his deep, slow voice half 
angry, half impatiently amused. “ Must I be valet as 
well as lover ? ” 


CHAPTER III 


The warm sunshine was flooding the tent when Diana 
woke from the deep sleep of exhaustion that had been 
Jmost insensibility, awoke to immediate and complete 
remembrance. One quick, fearful glance around the big 
room assured her that she was alone. She sat up slowly, 
her eyes shadowy with pain, looking listlessly at the 
luxurious appointments of the tent. She looked dry- 
eyed, she had no tears left. They had all been expended 
when she had grovelled at his feet imploring the mercy he 
had not accorded her. She had fought until the unequal 
struggle had left her exhausted and helpless in his arms, 
until her whole body was one agonised ache from the 
brutal hands that forced her to compliance, until her cour- 
ageous spirit was crushed by the realisation of her own 
powerlessness, and by the strange fear that the man him- 
self had awakened in her, which had driven her at last 
moaning to her knees. And the recollection of her abject 
prayers and weeping supplications filled her with a burn-, 
ing shame. She loathed herself with bitter contempt. 
Her courage had broken down ; even her pride had failed 
her. 

She wound her arms about her knees and hid her face 
against them. “Coward! Coward!'* she whispered 
fiercely. Why had she not scorned him? Or why had 
she not suffered all that he had done to her in silence? 
It would have pleased him less than the frenzied en- 
treaties that had only provoked the soft laugh that made 
60 


THE SHEIK 


6i 


her shiver each time she heard it. She shivered now. " I 
thought I was brave/’ she murmured brokenly. “ I am 
only a coward, a craven.” 

She lifted her head at last and looked around her. The 
room was a curious mixture of Oriental luxury and 
European comfort. The lavish sumptuousness of the fur- 
nishings suggested subtly an unrestrained indulgence, the 
whole atmosphere was voluptuous, and Diana shrank from 
the impression it conveyed without exactly understanding 
the reason. There was nothing that jarred artistically, 
the rich hangings all harmonised, there were no glaring 
incongruities such as she had seen in native palaces in 
India. And everything on which her eyes rested drove 
home relentlessly the hideous fact of her position. His 
things were everywhere. On a low, brass-topped table 
by the bed was the half-smoked cigarette he had had 
between his lips when he came to her. The pillow beside 
her still bore the impress of his head. She looked at it 
with a growing horror in her eyes until an uncontrollable 
shuddering seized her and she cowered down, smothering 
the cry that burst from her in the soft pillows and drag- 
ging the silken coverings up around her as if their thin 
shelter were a protection. She lived again through every 
moment of the past night until thought was unendurable, 
until she felt that she would go mad, until at last, worn 
out, she fell asleep. 

It was midday when she awoke again. This time she 
was not alone. A young Arab girl was sitting on the 
rug beside her looking at her with soft brown eyes of 
absorbed interest. As Diana sat up she rose to her feet, 
salaaming, with a timid smile. 

‘‘ I am Zilah, to wait on Madame,” she said shyly in 


62 


THE SHEIK 


stumbling French, holding out a wrap that Diana recog- 
nised with wonder as her own. She looked behind her. 
Her suit-cases were lying near her, open, partially un- 
packed. The missing baggage camels had been captured 
first, then. She was at least to be allowed the use of her 
own belongings. A gleam of anger shot into her tired 
eyes and she swung round with a sharp question ; but the 
Arab girl shook her head uncomprehendinp-ly, drawing 
back with frightened eyes; and to all further questions 
she remained silent, with down-drooping mouth like a 
scared child. She was little more. She evidently only 
half understood what was said to her and could give no 
answer to what she did understand, and turned away with 
obvious relief when Diana stopped speaking. She went 
across the tent and pulled aside a curtain leading into a 
bathroom that was as big and far better equipped than 
the one that Diana had had in the Indian tent, and which, 
up to now, had seemed the last word in comfort and 
luxury. Though the girl’s knowledge of French was lim- 
ited her hands were deft enough, but her ignorance of the 
intricacies of a European woman’s toilette was very ap- 
parent, and constantly provoked in her a girlish giggle that 
changed hurriedly to a startled gravity when Diana looked 
at her. Laughter was very far from Diana, but she 
could not help smiling now and again at her funny mis- 
takes. 

The girl, with her big, wondering eyes, her shy, hesi- 
tating French and childish curiosity, in some indefinable 
way gave back to Diana the self-control that had slipped 
from her. Her pride reasserted itself, rigidly suppres- 
sing any sign of feeling or emotion that could be noticed 
by the gentle, inquisitive eyes fixed on her. 


THE SHEIK 


63 

The hot bath that took the soreness out of her limbs 
brought back the colour to her face and lips. She even 
tubbed her head, rubbing the glistening curls dry with 
fierce vigour, striving to rid herself of the contamination 
that seemed to have saturated her. Yet the robes against 
which they had been pressed were spotless, and the hands 
that had held her were fastidiously clean, even to the well- 
kept nails. 

She came back into the bedroom to find Zilah on her 
knees poring over her scanty but diverse wardrobe with 
bewilderment, fingering the evening dresses with shy 
hands, and finally submitting tentatively to Diana the 
tweed skirt that had been packed with her other things 
for the journey when Oran should be reached. But Di- 
ana put it aside, and pointed to the riding clothes she had 
worn the previous day. In them she felt more able to 
face what might be before her, the associations connected 
with them seemed to give her moral strength, in them she 
would feel herself again — Diana the boy, not the shiver- 
ing piece of womanhood that had been bom with tears 
and agony last night. She bit her lip as she stamped 
her foot down into the long boot. 

She sent the girl away at last, and noticed that she 
avoided passing into the adjoining room, but vanished 
instead through the curtains leading into the bathroom. 
Did that mean that in the outer room the Arab Sheik was 
waiting? The thought banished the self-control she had 
regained and sent her weakly on to the side of the bed 
with her face hidden in her hands. Was he there? Her 
questions to the little waiting-girl had only been concerned 
with the whereabouts of the camp to which she had been 
brought and also of the fate of the caravan ; of the man 


THE SHEIK 


64 

himself she had not been able to bring herself to speak. 
The strange fear that he had inspired in her filled her 
with rage and humiliation. The thought of seeing him 
again brought a shame that was unspeakable. But she 
conquered the agitation that threatened to grow beyond 
restraint, pride helping her again. It was better to face 
the inevitable of her own free will than be fetched whether 
she would or not. For she knew now the strength of 
the man who had abducted her, knew that physically she 
was helpless against him. She raised her head and lis- 
tened. It was very silent in the next room. Perhaps she 
was tc be allowed a further respite. She jerked her head 
impatiently at her own hesitation. ** Coward I she whis- 
pered again contemptuously, and flung across the room. 
But at the curtains she halted for a moment, then with set 
face drew them aside and went through. 

The respite had been granted, the room appeared to be 
empty. But as she crossed the thick rugs her heart leapt 
suddenly into her throat, for she became aware of a man 
standing in the open doorway. His back was turned to 
her, but in a moment she saw that the short, slim figure 
in white linen European clothes bore no resemblance to 
the tall Arab she had expected to see. She thought her 
footsteps were noiseless, but he turned with a little quick 
bow. A typical Frenchman with narrow, alert, clean- 
shaven face, sleek black hair and dark restless eyes. His 
legs were slightly bowed and he stooped a little; his 
appearance was that of a jockey with the manners of a 
well-trained servant. Diana coloured hotly under his 
glance, but his eyes were lowered instantly. 

“ Madame is doubtless ready for lunch.^* He spoke 
rapidly, but his voice was low and pleasant. His move- 


THE SHEIK 


65 

ments were as quick and as quiet as his voice, and in a 
dream Diana found herself in a few moments before a 
lunch that was perfectly cooked and daintily served. The 
man hovered about her solicitously, attending to her 
wants with dexterous hands and watchful eyes that an- 
ticipated every need. She was bewildered, faint from 
want of food, everything seemed unreal. For the mo- 
ment she could just sit still and be waited on by the soft- 
footed, soft-spoken manservant who seemed such a curi- 
ous adjunct to the household of an Arab chief. 

** Monseigneur begs that you will excuse him until this 
evening. He will return in time for dinner,” he mur- 
mured as he handed her a cous-cous. 

Diana looked up blankly. Monseigneur? ” 

“ My master. The Sheik.” 

She flushed scarlet and her face hardened. Hypocrit- 
ical, Oriental beast who begged to be excused ” ! She 
refused the last dish curtly, and as the servant carried it 
away she propped her elbows on the table and rested her 
aching head on her hands. A headache was among the 
new experiences that had overwhelmed her since the day 
before. Suffering in any form was new to her, and her 
hatred of the man who had made her suffer 'grew with 
every breath she drew. 

The Frenchman came back with coffee and cigarettes. 
He held a match for her, coaxing the reluctant flame with 
patience that denoted long experience with inferior sul- 
phur. 

“Monseigneur dines at eight. At what hour will 
Madame have tea?” he asked, as he cleared away and 
folded up the table. 

Diana choked back the sarcastic retort that sprang to 


66 


THE SHEIK 


her lips. The man’s quiet, deferential manner, that re- 
fused to see anything extraordinary in her presence in his 
master’s camp, was almost harder to bear than flagrant 
impertinence would have been. That she could have 
dealt with ; this left her tingling with a feeling of impot- 
ence, as if a net were gradually closing round her in 
whose entangling meshes her vaunted liberty was not only 
threatened, but which seemed destined even to stifle her 
very existence. She pulled her racing thoughts up with a 
jerk. She must not think if she was going to keep any 
hold over herself at all. She gave him an answer in- 
differently and turned her back on him. When she looked 
again he was gone, and she heaved a sigh of relief. She 
had chafed under his watchful eyes until the feeling of 
restraint had grown unbearable. 

She breathed more freely now that he was gone, fling- 
ing up her head and jerking her shoulders back with an 
angry determination to conquer the fear that made her 
ashamed. Natural curiosity had been struggling with 
her other emotions, and she gave way to it now to try 
and turn the channel of her thoughts from the fixed direc- 
tion in which they tended, and wandered round the big 
room. The night before she had taken in nothing of her 
surroundings, her eyes had been held only by the man who 
had dominated everything. Here, also, were the same 
luxurious appointments as in the sleeping-room. She had 
knowledge enough to appreciate that the rugs and hang- 
ings were exquisite, the former were Persian and the 
latter of a thick black material, heavily embroidered in 
silver. The main feature of the room was a big black 
divan heaped with huge cushions covered with dull black 
silk. Beside the divan, spread over the Persian rugs, 


THE SHEIK 


67 

were two unusually large black bearskins, the mounted 
heads converging. At one end of the tent w^as a small 
doorway, a little portable writing-table. There were one 
or two Moorish stools heaped v>rith a motley collection of 
ivories and gold and silver cigarette cases and knick- 
knacks, and against the partition that separated the two 
rooms stood a quaintly carved old wooden chest. Though 
the furniture was scanty and made the tent seem even 
more spacious than it really was, the whole room had an 
air of barbaric splendour. The somber hangings gleam- 
ing with thick silver threads seemed to Diana like a 
studied theatrical effect, a setting against which the Arab’s 
own white robes should contrast more vividly; she re- 
membered the black and silver waistcloth she had seen 
swathed round him, with curling scornful lip. There 
was a strain of vanity in all njitives, she generalised con- 
temptuously. Doubtless it pleased this native’s conceit 
to carry out the colour scheme of his tent even in his 
clothes, and pose among the sable cushions of the luxuri- 
ous divan to the admiration of his retainers. She made a 
little exclamation of disgust, and turned from the soft 
seductiveness of the big couch with disdain. 

She crossed the tent to the little bookcase and knelt 
beside it curiously. What did a Francophile-Arab read? 
Novels, probably, that would harmonise with the atmos- 
phere that she dimly sensed in her surroundings. But it 
was not novels that filled the bookcase. They were books 
of sport and travel with several volumes on veterinary 
surgery. They were all in French, and had all been fre- 
quently handled, many of them had pencilled notes in the 
margins written in Arabic. One shelf was filled entirely 
with the works of one man, a certain Vicomte Raoul de 


68 


THE SHEIK 


Saint Embert. With the exception of one novel, which 
Diana only glanced at hastil^y, they were all books of 
travel. From the few scribbled words in the front of 
each Diana could see that they had all been sent to the 
Af*ab by the author himself — one even was dedicated to 
“ My friend, Ahmed Ben Hassan, Sheik of the Desert.” 
She put the books back with a puzzled frown. She 
wished, with a feeling that she could not fathom, that they 
had been rather v/hat she had imagined. The evidence of 
education and unlooked-for tastes in the man they be- 
longed to troubled her. It was an unexpected glimpse 
into the personality of the Arab that had captured her was 
vaguely disquieting, for it suggested possibilities that 
would not have existed in a raw native, or one only super- 
ficially coated with a veneer of civilisation. He seemed 
to become infinitely more sinister, infinitely more horrible. 
She looked at her watch with sudden apprehension. The 
day was wearing away quickly. Soon he would come. 
Her breath came quick and short and the tears welled up 
in her eyes. 

“ I mustn’t I I mustn’t ! ” she whispered in a kind of 
desperation. ‘‘If I cry again I shall go mad.” She 
forced them back, and crossing to the big black divan 
that she had scorned before dropped down among the 
soft cushions. She was so tired, and her head throbbed 
persistently. 

She was asleep when the servant brought tea, but she 
started up as he pu^ the tray on a stool beside her. 

“ It is Madame ’s own tea. If she will be good enough 
to say if it is made to her taste,” he said anxiously, as if 
his whole happiness was contained in the tiny teapot at 
w’nich he was frowning deprecatingly. 


THE SHEIK 


69 

His assiduity jarred on Diana^s new-found jangling 
nerves. She recognised that he was sincere in his efforts 
to please her, but just now they only seemed an added 
humiliation. She longed to shout Go away ! ’’ like an 
angry schoolboy, but she managed to give him the in- 
formation he wanted, and putting cigarettes and matches 
by her he went out with a little smile of satisfaction. The 
longing for fresh air and the desire to see what place she 
had been brought to grew irresistible as the evening came 
nearer. She went to the open doorway. A big awning 
stretched before it, supported on lances. She stepped out 
from under its shade and looked about her wonderingly. 
It was a big oasis — bigger than any she had seen. In 
front of the tent there was an open space with a thick 
belt of palm trees beyond. The rest of the camp lay be- 
hind the Chief’s tent. The place was alive with men and 
horses. There were some camels in the distance, but it 
was the horses that struck Diana principally. They were 
everywhere, some tethered, some wandering loose, some 
exercising in the hands of grooms. Mounted Arabs on 
the outskirts of the oasis crossed her view occasionally. 
There were groups of men engaged on various duties all 
around her. Those who went by near her salaamed as 
they passed, but took no further notice of her. A strange 
look came into Diana’s eyes. This was the desert in- 
deed, the desert as she had never expected to see it, the 
desert as few could expect to see it. But the cost ! She 
shuddered, then turned at a sudden noise near her. A 
biting, screaming chestnut fury was coming past close 
to the tent, taking complete charge of the two men who 
clung, yelling, to his head. He was stripped, but Diana 
recognised him a,i once. The one brief view she had had 


THE SHEIK 


70 

of his small, vicious head as he shot past her elbow the 
evening before was written on her brain for all time. He 
came to a halt opposite Diana, refusing to move, his ears 
laid close to his head, quivering all over, snatching con- 
tinually at his grooms, who seemed unable to cope with 
him. Once he jwung up on his hind legs and his cruel 
teeth flashed almost into the face of one of the men, who 
was taken off his guard, and who dropped on to the 
ground, rolling out of the way with a howl that provoked 
a shout of laughter from a knot of Arabs who had gath- 
ered to watch the usual evening eccentricities of the 
chestnut. The French servant, coming from behind the 
tent, stopped to speak to the man as he picked himself up 
and made a grab at the horse’s head, and then turned to 
Diana with his pleasant smile. 

“ He is rightly named Shaitan, Madame, for he is as- 
suredly possessed of a devil,” he said, indicating the 
chestnut, who, at that moment, with a violent plunge, 
broke away from the men who were holding him and 
headed for the edge of the oasis with the Arabs streaming 
after him. The mounted men will catch him,” he added 
with a little laugh, in response to Diana’s exclamation. 

‘‘Is he amusing himself, or is it really vice?” she 
asked. 

“ Pure vice, Madame. He has killed three men.” 

Diana looked at him incredulously, for his tone was 
casual and his manner did not indicate any undue feeling. 

“ He ought to be shot,” she said indignantly. 

The man shrugged. “ Monseigneur is fond of him,” 
he said quietly. 

And so because Monseigneur was fond of him the 
vicious animal was surrounded with every care that his 


THE SHEIK 


71 

master’s pleasure might not be interfered with. Evi- 
dently the lives of his wretched people were of less value 
to him than that of a favourite horse. It sounded compat- 
ible with the fnercilessness she had herself experienced. 
What she would not have believed yesterday to-day seemed 
terribly credible. The courage that the relief of his ab- 
sence brought back was sinking fast, as fast as the red ball 
glowing in the heavens was sinking down towards the 
horizon. She turned from her own fearful thoughts to 
look at some more horses that were being led away to 
the lines on the other side of the camp. 

“ The horses are magnificert, but they are bigger than 
any Arabs I have seen before.” 

“ They are a special bre:‘d, Madame,” replied the 
Frenchman. “ The tribe has been famous for them for 
generations. Monseigneur’s horses are known through 
all the Barbary States, and as far as France,” he added, 
with a little accent of pride creeping into his voice. 

Diana looked at him speculatively. There was an in- 
flection in his voice each time he mentioned his master 
that indicated a devotion that she was unable to accredit 
to the brute for whose treatment she was still suffering. 
But her thoughts were broken into abruptly. 

‘‘ There is Monseigneur,” said the servant suddenly. 
He spoke as if she, too, must be glad of his coming. 
Did the valet imagine for one moment that she was here 
of her own free will Or was it all a part of the hypoc- 
risy in which she seemed to be enveloped? She flashed 
one glance at the horseman riding through the belt of 
trees that fringed the oasis and an icy perspiration chilled 
her from head to foot. She shrank back under the awn- 
ing and into the coolness of the telrt, raging against the 


THE SHEIKi 


7 ^ 

mastering fear that she could not overcome. But just 
inside the open doorway she stood firm; even her fear 
could make her go no further. She would meet him here, 
not cowering into the inner room like a trembling creature 
skulking in the furthest corner of its cage. That much 
pride at least was left. 

From the shelter of the tent she watched the troop 
arrive at the open space before her. The horse the Sheik 
was riding was jet black, and Diana looked from the 
beautiful creature’s satiny coat to the man’s white robes 
with angry contempt. 

Black and white ! Black and white ! Mountebank ! ” 
she’ muttered through her clenched teeth. Then as he 
swung to the ground every, thought fell from her but the 
terror he inspired. She waited, breathless, the swift rac- 
ing of her heart an actual physical pain. 

He lingered, fondling the great olack horse, and even 
after it had been led away he stood looking after it, talking 
to a tall young Arab who had ridden in with him. At 
last he turned and came leisurely towards the tent. He 
paused at the door to speak to the Frenchman, a pictur- 
esque, barbaric figure, with flowing robes and great white 
cloak, the profile of his lean face clean cut against the 
evening sky, the haughty poise of his head emphasised by 
the attitude in which he was standing, arrogant, dominat- 
ing. He moved his hands when he spoke with quick, 
expressive gestures, but his voice was slow and soft, 
pitched in a deep musical key, but with all its softness 
unmistakably authoritative. He pointed with out- 
stretched, steady hand to something beyond her line of 
vision, and as he turned to enter the tent he laughed softly, 
and she shivered involuntarily. Then he swept in, and 


THE SHEIK 


73 

she drew back from him with lowered eyes. She would 
not look at him ; she would not meet his look. His pres- 
ence was an offence, she was scorched with shame. Every 
fibre of her being cried out in protest at his proximity. 
She wished with passionate fierceness that she could die. 
She shook feverishly and caught her quivering lip be- 
tween her teeth to keep it still, and the red-gold curls 
lay wet against her forehead. Her breast heaved storm- 
ily with the rapid beating of her heart, but she held her- 
self proudly erect. He crossed the tent v/ith a long noise- 
less stride. 

(. “I hope that Gaston took care of you properly and gave 
you everything that you wanted ? ” he said easily, stoop- 
ing to a little table to light a cigarette. The coolness of 
his words and manner were like a dash of cold water. 
She had been prepared for anything but this calm noncha- 
lance in a situation that was intolerable. His tone con- 
veyed the perfunctory regret of a host for an unavoid- 
able absence. Her fear gave way to rage, her body 
stiffened, her hands clenched. 

Is it not time that this ended? Haven’t you done 
enough ? ” she burst out passionately. ** Why have you 
committed this outrage ? ” 

A thin thread of smoke drifted towards her, as if the 
hand holding the cigarette had moved in her direction in 
one of the gestures that she had noticed outside, but there 
was no answer. His silence infuriated her and she grew 
utterly reckless. 

** Do you think that you can keep me here, you fool ? 
That I can vanish into the desert and no notice be taken 
of my disappearance — that no inquiries will be made?” 

“ There will be no inquiries,” he answered calmly. 


74 


THE SHEIK 


She ground the heel of her boot into the soft carpet. 

There will be inquiries/’ she choked furiously. “ I am 
not such a nonentity that nothing will be done when I am 
missed. The English authorities will make the French 
Government find out who is responsible, and you will have 
to pay for what you have done.” 

He laughed — the little amused laugh that sent the same 
cold feeling of dread through her that she had felt the day 
before. 

** The French Government has no jurisdiction over me. 
I am not subject to it. I am an independent chief, my 
own master. I recognise no government. My tribe obey 
me and only me.” 

Her shaking fingers found the handkerchief for which 
they were groping, and she wiped the moisture that had 
gathered on the palms of her hands. 

“ When I am missed — ” she began desperately, trying 
to keep a bold front, but her assurance was leaving her. 

“ You will not be missed for so long that it will be too 
late,” he replied drily. 

“ Too late ! What do you mean ? ” she gasped. 

**Your own plans will stop any possibility of inquiry 
for some time to come.” He paused, and behind her, 
Diana heard him strike another m.atch. The banal little 
incident nearly snapped her nerves that were stretched to 
breaking-point. She put her hands to her head to try 
and stop the throbbing in her temples. 

“ You engaged a caravan in charge of Mustafa Ali,” 
he went on evenly, ** to travel in the desert for a month. 
You set out from Biskra, but your intention was at the 
end of the time to travel northward to Oran and there 
dismiss the caravan. From there you were to cross to 


THE SHEIK 


Marseilles, then to Cherbourg, where you would em- 
bark for America to follow your brother, who has already 
started.** 

She listened breathlessly with an ever-increasing fear 
growing in her eyes. The slow, casual voice detailing her 
itinerary with the quiet certainty of perfect knowledge 
filled her with a terror that made her want to scream. 
She swayed a little as she stood, her eyes fixed on the 
endless strip of desert and gold-flecked sky visible through 
the opening of the tent, but she saw nothing of the un- 
dulating sand, nor the red glory of the setting sun. 

‘‘ How do you know — all — this ? ** she whispered with 
dry lips that trembled. 

I wished to know. It was quite simple.** The an- 
swer was given carelessly, and again the thin thread of 
smoke drifted across her face. 

Her anger flamed up again. “Is it money that you 
want? Are you holding me for ransom?** But her 
scornful voice faltered and died away on the last word, 
and it did not need his silence to convince her that it was 
no question of ransom. She had only spoken to try and 
stifle the inner conviction that grew despite her eflforts to 
crush it. Her hands were locked together tightly, her 
eyes, still staring out unseeing at the wonderful sunset. 
She felt dazed, hopeless, like a fugitive who has turned 
into a cul-de-sac, hemmed in on every side ; there seemed 
no way out, no loophole of escape. She wrung her hands 
convulsively and a great shudder shook her. Then in her 
despair a faint ray of hope came. 

“ Mustafa Ali, or one of the caravan men may have 
given the alarm already in Biskra — if you have not-^ 
murdered them all,** she whispered jerkily. 


THE SHEIK 


** I have not murdered them all/* he rejoined shortly, 
but Mustafa Ali will not give any alarm in Biskra.” 

‘‘ Why ? ” She tried to keep silent, but the question 
was forced from her, and she waited tense for his answer. 
Tales of ruthless Arab cruelty surged through her mind. 
What had been the fate of the unfortunate caravan 
leader ? Her eyes closed and her throat grew dry. 

“ There was no need for any murder,** he continued 
sarcastically. “ When you come to know me better you 
will realise that I do not leave too much to chance. ‘ All 
things are with Allah, blessed be his name.* Good ! But 
it is well to remember that Allah does not always con- 
cern himself with the affairs of men, and arrange accord- 
ingly. If I had left this affair to chance there might 
very easily have been, as you suggest, murder done — 
though we do not call it murder in the desert. It was 
very simple. Voyons! You paid Mustafa Ali well to 
guide you in the desert. I paid him better to lead you 
to me. I paid him well enough to make him content to 
remove himself from Biskra, where awkward questions 
might be asked, to another sphere of usefulness where he 
is not known, and where he can build up for himself a 
new reputation as a caravan leader.** 

There was another silence and her hands went groping 
to her throat. It had been no chance affair then — no 
accidental meeting that the Arab chief had turned to his 
own account, but an organised outrage that had been care- 
fully planned from the beginning. From the very outset 
she had been a dupe. She ground her teeth with rage. 
Her suave, subservient guide had been leading her the 
whole time, not in the direction that had been mapped out 
in Biskra, but towards the man who had bought him to 


THE SHEIK 


betray his trust. Mustafa Ali’s shifting eyes, his desire 
to hurry her from the oasis where they had rested at mid- 
day, his tone were all explained. He had acted well. 
The last touch — the imaginary wound that had toppled 
him slowly out of his saddle had been a masterpiece, she 
reflected bitterly. Nothing had been omitted to make the 
attempt a success. The horse that had been given her 
to ride was the Sheikas beyond all doubt, trained to his 
whistle. Even her revolver had been tampered with. 
She had not missed, as she had thought. She remem- 
bered the noise, the fleeting vision she had had in the hotel 
at Biskra. It had been some one in her room, Mustafa 
Ali himself, or one of his men, who had stolen in and 
substituted the blank cartridges. The possibility of 
Aubrey changing his mind and accompanying her must 
also have been thought of, for the Sheik had provided 
against the resistance that would certainly have then been 
made by the number of followers he had brought with 
him — a large enough force to frustrate easily any at- 
tempted opposition to the attack. 

The net that she had felt closing round her earlier in 
the afternoon seemed wrapped round her now inextrica- 
bly, drawing tighter and tighter, smothering her. She 
gasped for breath. The sinking sun seemed suddenly to 
leap up wildly into the heavens;' then she pulled herself 
together with a tremendous effort. “ Why have you done 
this ? ” she murmured faintly. 

Then for a moment her heart stood still, her eyes 
dilating. He had come close behind her, and she waited 
in an agony, until he caught her to him, crushing her 
against him, forcing her head back on his arm. 

“ Because I wanted you. Because one day in Biskra, 




THE SHEIK 


four weeks ago, I saw you for a few moments, long 
enough to know that I wanted you. And what I want I 
take. You played into my hands. You arranged a tour 
in the desert. The rest was easy.*’ 

Her eyes were shut, the long dark lashes quivering on 
her pale cheeks so that she could not see his face, but 
she felt him draw her closer to him and then his fierce 
kisses on her mouth. She struggled frantically, but she 
was helpless, and he laughed softly as he kissed her lips, 
her hair, her eyes passionately. He stood quite still, but 
she felt the heavy beating of his heart under her cheek, 
and understood dimly the passion that she had aroused in 
him. She had experienced his tremendous strength. 
She realised from what he had told her that he recognised 
no law beyond his own wishes, and was prepared to go to 
^any lengths to fulfil them. She knew that her life was 
in his hands, that he could break her with his lean 
brown fingers like a toy is broken, and all at once she 
felt pitifully weak and frightened. She was utterly in 
his power and at his mercy — the mercy of an Arab who 
was merciless. 

She gave in suddenly, lying quiet in his arms. She had 
touched the lowest depths of degradation; he could do 
nothing more to her than he had done. For the moment 
she could fight no further, she was worn out and utterly 
weary. A numb feeling of despair came over her and 
with it a sense of unreality, as if it were a hideous night- 
mare from which she would wake, for the truth seemed 
too impossible, the setting too theatrical. The man him- 
self was a mystery. She could not reconcile him and the 
barbaric display in which he lived with the evidences of 
refinement and education that the well-worn books in 


THE SHEIK 


79 

the tent evinced. The fastidious ordering of his appoint- 
ments puzzled her ; it was strange to find in such a place. 
A dozen incongruities that she had noticed during the 
day crowded into her recollection until her head reeled. 
She turned from them wearily; she was too tired to think, 
too spent in mind and body. And with the despair a 
kind of indifference stole over her. She had suffered so 
much that nothing more mattered. 

The strong arms around her tightened slowly. Look 
at me,” he said in the soft slow voice that seemed habitual 
to him, and which contrasted oddly with the neat, clip- 
ping French that he spoke. She shivered and her dark 
lashes flickered for a moment. “ Look at me.” His 
voice Avas just as slow, just as soft, but into it had crept 
an inflection that was unmistakable. 

Twenty-four hours ago Diana Mayo had not known 
the meaning of the word fear, and had never in ail her 
life obeyed any one against her inclination, but in twenty- 
four hours she had lived through years of emotions. For 
the first time she had pitted her will against a will that 
was stronger than her own, for the first time she had 
met an arrogance that was greater and a determination 
that was firmer than hers. For the first time she had met 
a man who had failed to bow to her wishes, whom a 
look had been powerless to transform into a willing slave. 
In a few hours that had elapsed she had learned fear, a 
terrible fear that left her sick with apprehension, and she 
was learning obedience. Obedient now, she forced her- 
self to lift her eyes to his, and the shamed blood surged 
slowly into her cheeks. His dark, passionate eyes burnt 
into her like a hot flame. His encircling arms were like 
bands of fire, scorching her* His touch was torture. 


8o 


THE SHEIK 


Helpless, like a trapped wild thing, she lay against him, 
panting, trembling, her wide eyes fixed on him, held 
against their will. Fascinated she could not turn them 
away, and the image of the brown, handsome face with 
its flashing eyes, straight, cruel mouth and strong chin 
seemed searing into her brain. The faint indefinite scent 
of an uncommon Turkish tobacco clung about him, en- 
veloping her. She had been conscious of the same scent 
the previous day when he had held her in his arms during 
the wild ride across the desert. 

He smiled down at her suddenly. ** Bon Dieuf Do 
you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured. But 
the sound of his voice seemed to break a spell that had 
kept her dumb. She struggled again to free herself. 

“ Let me go ! ” she cried piteously, and it was her com- 
plete immunity from him that she prayed for, but he chose 
wilfully to misunderstand her. The passion faded from 
his eyes, giving place to a gleam of mockery. 

There is plenty of time. Gaston is the most discreet 
servant. We shall hear him when he comes,” he said 
with a low laugh. 

But she persisted with the courage of desperation. 
“ When will you let me go ? ” 

With an exclamation of impatience he put her from 
him roughly, and going to the divan flung himself down 
on the cushions, lit another cigarette and picked up a 
magazine that was lying on an inlaid stool beside him. 

She bit her lips to keep back the hysterical sobs that 
rose in her throat, nerving herself with clenched hands, 
and followed him. ‘Wou must tell me. I must know. 
When will you let me go ? ” 

He turned a page with deliberation, and flicked the ash 


THE SHEIK 


8i 


from tiis cigarette before looking up. A heavy scowl 
gathered on his face, and his eyes swept her from head 
to foot with a slow scrutiny that made her shrink. 

When I am tired of you,” he said coldly. 

She shuddered violently and turned away with a little 
moan, stumbling blindly towards the inner room, but as 
she reached the curtains his voice arrested her. He had 
thrown aside the magazine and was lying back on the 
divan, liis long limbs stretched out indolently, his hands 
clasped behind his head. 

“ You make a very charming boy,” he said lightly, with 
a faint smile, “ but it was not a boy that I saw in Biskra. 
You understand?” 

Beyond the curtains she stood a moment, shaking all 
over, her face hidden in her hands, able to relax a little 
the hold she was keeping on herself. Yes! She under- 
stood, plainly enough. The understanding had already 
been forced upon her. It was an order from one who was 
prepared to compel his commands, to make herself more 
attractive with all that it implied in the eyes of the man 
who held her in his power and who looked at her as no 
other man had ever dared to look, with appraising criti- 
cism that .made her acutely conscious of her sex, that 
made her feel like a slave exposed for sale in a public 
market. 

She must take off the boyish clothes that somehow 
seemed to lend her courage and substitute, to gratify the 
whim of the savage in the next room, the womanly dress 
that revealed more intimately the slender lines of her 
figure and intensified the uncommon beauty of her face. 

She went to the dressing table with lagging feet and 
stared resentfully at the white face and haggard eyes 


82 


THE SHEIK 


that looked back at her from the mirror. It was like the 
face of a stranger. Aubrey’s words came back to her 
with an irony that was horrible. To-night she did not 
dress to please herself. Her face was set, her eyes al- 
most black with rage, but behind the rage there was lurk- 
ing apprehension. She started at every sound that came 
from the adjoining room. Her fingers, wet with perspira- 
tion, seemed almost unable to fulfil their task. She hated 
him, she hated herself, she hated her beauty that had 
brought this horror upon her. She would have rebelled 
if she had dared, but instinctively she hurried — fear had 
already driven her so far. But when she was ready she 
did not move from the table beside which she stood. Fear 
had forced her to haste, but her still struggling pride 
would not permit her to obey her fear any further. She 
rai.sed her eyes to the glass again, glowering angrily at 
the pale reflection, and the old obstinacy mingled with 
the new pain that filled them. Must she endure his 
mocking glance with chalk-like cheeks and eyes like a 
beaten hound? Had she not even courage enough left 
to hide the fear that filled her with self -contempt? The 
wave of anger that went through her rushed the colour 
into her faci and she leaned nearer the glass with a little 
murmur of satisfaction that stopped abruptly as her fin- 
gers gripped the edge of the table, and she continued star- 
ing into the mirror not at her own face, but at the white 
robes that, appeared behind her head, blotting out the 
limited view she had had of the room. 

The Sheik was standing behind her. He had come 
with the peculiar noiseless tread that she had noticed be- 
fore. He swung her round to look at her and she writhed 
Wider his eyes of adi^ratjon, straining from him as far as 


THE SHEIK 


83 

his grip allowed. Holding her with one hand he took her 
chin in the other and tilted her face up to his with a 
little smile. ‘‘ Don’t look so frightened. I don’t want 
anything more deadly than some soap and water. Surely 
even an Arab may be allowed to wash his hands ? ” 

His mocking voice and his taunt of fear stung her, but 
she would not answer and, with a laugh and a shrug, he 
let her go, picking up a razor from the table and lounging 
into the bathroom. 

With crimson cheeks Diana fled into the outer room. 
His manner could not have been more casual if she had 
been his wife a dozen years. She waited for him in a 
tumult of emotions, but with the advent of Gaston and 
dinner he returned to the attitude of dispassionate, court- 
eous host that he had assumed when he first came in. He 
was a few minutes late, and apologised gravely as he sat 
down opposite her. He maintained the attitude through- 
out dinner, and conscious of the watching manservant 
Diana made herself reply to his easy conversation. 

He talked mainly of the desert and the sport that it 
offered, as if he had studied her tastes and chosen the 
topic to please her. He spoke well; what he said was 
interesting, and showed complete knowledge of the sub- 
ject, and at any other time Diana would have listened 
fascinated and absorbed, but now the soft, slow, cultured 
voice only seemed to add to the incongruity of the situa- 
tion. The role of willing guest that he was forcjing upon 
her was almost more than she could play, and the neces- 
sity of sitting still and responding was taxing her endur- 
ance to the utmost. And all the time she was aware 
acutely of his constant surveillance. Reluctantly her own 
furtive glance was drawn frequently to his face, and 


THE SHEIK 


84 

always his dark fierce eyes were watching her with a 
steadiness that racked her nerves, till she was reminded 
irresistibly of an exhibition that she had seen in a circus 
in Vienna, where a lion tamer had concluded an unusually 
daring performance by dining in the lions’ cage, sur- 
rounded by savage snarling brutes very different from the 
sleepy half-drugged creatures ordinarily shown. Inter- 
ested in the animals, she had gone behind with Aubrey 
after the performance, and while fondling some tiny lion 
cubs that had been brought for her to see had chatted with 
the tamer, a girl little older than herself. She had been 
somewhat unapproachable until she had realised from 
Diana’s friendly manner that her questions were prompted 
by real interest and not mere curiosity, and had unbent 
■with surprising swiftness, accepting Diana’s proffered 
cigarettes and taking her to see her special lions, who 
were boxed for the night. Diana had wandered up and 
down before the narrow cages, looking at the big brutes 
still restless from the show, rubbing her cheek on the 
soft little round head of the cub she was holding in her 
arms, smiling at its sleepy rasping purr. 

*'Are you ever afraid?” she had asked suddenly — 
“not of the ordinary performance, but of that last act,t 
when you dine all alone with them ? ” 

The girl shrugged her shoulders, blowing a little cloud 
of smoke into the cub’s face, and her eyes had met 
Diana’s slowly over his little yellow body. “ One does 
not taste very much,” she had said drily. 

And it was so with Diana. She had eaten mechani- 
cally everything that had been put before her, but she had 
tasted nothing. She had one thought in her mind that 
excluded everything else — to hide from the probing eyes 


THE SHEIK 


85 

that watched her ceaselessly the overmastering fear that 
augmented every moment. One thing she had noticed 
during the meal. For her only the servant poured out the 
light French wine that he had brought. Her eyes wan- 
dered to the Sheik’s empty glass, and meeting her glance 
he smiled, with a little inclination. 

“ Excuse me. I do not drink wine. It is my only 
virtue,” he added, with a sudden gleam leaping into his 
eyes that drove the blood into her cheeks and her own 
eyes on to her plate. 

She had forgotten that he was an Arab. 

The dinner seemed interminable, and yet she wished 
that it would never end. While the servant was in the 
room she was safe; the thought of his going sent a cold 
shudder through her. With the coffee came a huge Per- 
sian hound, almost upsetting the Frenchman in the en- 
trance in his frantic endeavour to precede him through 
the doorway. He flung his long grey body across the 
Sheik’s knees with a whine of pleasure and then turned 
his head to growl at Diana. But the growl died away 
quickly, and he lumbered down and came to her side 
curiously, eyeing her for a moment and then thrusting his 
big head against her. 

The Sheik laughed. “ You are honoured. Kopec 
makes few friends.” 

She did not anwsen The natural reply was almost 
certain to provoke a retort that she did not desire, so she 
remained silent, smoothing the hound’s rough coat. With 
her heart turning slowly to lead she lingered over her 
coffee until there was no further possible pretext for re- 
maining at the table, then rose with a short, sharp sigh. 

For some minutes the Sheik had sat silent, his own 


86 


THE SHEIK 


coffee long since finished. He made no comment when 
she got up, and went himself to the big divan, followed 
by the hound, who had gone back to him as soon as he 
moved. 

Diana turned to the little bookcase, snatching at the 
opportunity it offered for further silence, and took a book 
at random. She did not know what she was looking at, 
she did not care. She only prayed fervently that she 
might be left alone, that the sudden silent fit that had 
come over him might continue. 

Near her Gaston was clearing away the table and as 
he finished he paused to speak to his master. Diana 
heard the words le petit Sheik,’’ but the rest was in 
Arabic and unintelligible to her. The Sheik frowned with 
a gesture of annoyance, then nodded, and the servant left 
the tent. 

A few moments after a voice that she had not heard 
before made her look up. 

The young Arab who had ridden in with the Sheik 
was standing beside the divan. The fierce eyes that were 
watching her every movement met hers, and his cigarette 
was waved towards the young man. My lieutenant, 
Yusef, a son of the desert with the soul of a Hdneur. 
His body is here with me, but his heart is on the trottoirs 
of Algiers.” 

The tall lad laughed and salaamed profoundly, then 
straightened himself, posing magnificently until a curt 
word from the Sheik recalled him to his errand and his 
swagger changed swiftly to a deference of which the 
significance was not lost on Diana. The Arab might un- 
bend to his people if it so pleased him, but he kept them 
well in hand. She looked at the lieutenant as he stood 


THE SHEIK 


87 

before his chief. He was tall and slender as a girl, with 
an air of languid indolence that was obviously a pose, for 
it was slipping from him now fast as he talked. His face 
was strikingly handsome, only saved from effeminacy 
by a firm chin. He was patently aware of his good looks. 
But he was also patently in awe of his chief, and the 
news that he brought was apparently not welcome. 

Through her thick lashes Diana watched them intently. 
The younger man voluble, gesticulating, at times almost 
cringing. The Sheik silent, except for an occasional 
word, the heavy scowl back on his face, growing blacker 
every moment. At last with a shrug of impatience he 
got up and they went out together, the hound following 
them. Diana subsided on to the thick rug beside the book- 
case. For a moment again she was alone, free of the 
watching eyes that seemed to be burning into her all the 
time, free of the hated proximity. She dropped her head 
on her knees with a little whimper of weariness. 
For a moment she need not check the tide of 
misery that rushed over her. She was tired in mind 
and body, exhausted with the emotion that had 
shaken her until she knew that no matter what 
happened in the future the Diana of yesterday was 
dead, and her new self was strange and unfamiliar. She 
did not trust it; she feared its capacity for maintaining 
the struggle she had resolved upon. The old courageous 
self had never failed her, this new shrinking fearful 
personality filled her with distrust. Her confidence in 
herself was gone. Her contempt of herself was un- 
utterable. The strength that remained was not sufficient 
to conquer the fear that had taken so strong a hold upon 
her. She could only hope to hide it, to deny him at least 


88 


THE SHEIK 


that much satisfaction. She had grovelled at his feet 
once and it had amused him. He had laughed! She 
would die rather than afford him a similar amusement. 
She could never wipe out the recollection of her coward- 
ice; he would remember always, and so would she; but 
she could atone for it if her strength held. And she 
prayed that it might hold, until a sob broke from her 
and her hands cramped around her knees. She pushed 
her hair off her forehead with a heavy sigh, and she looked 
back over her shoulder at the empty room. It had 
changed since this morning in the indefinable way a 
strange room does change after a few hours* association. 
If she could leave it now and never see it again in all 
her life no single detail of it would ever be forgotten. 
Its characteristics had been stamped upon her as famil- 
iarly as if the hours passed in it had been years. And 
yesterday was years ago, when the poor silly fool that had 
been Diana Mayo had ridden blindly into the trap from 
which her boasted independence had not been able to 
save her. She had paid heavily for the determination to 
ignore the restrictions of her sex laid upon her and the 
payment was not yet over. Her tired body shrank from 
the struggle that must recommence so soon. If he would 
only spare her until this numbing weariness that made her 
so powerless should lessen. She heard his voice at the 
door and her icy fingers grasped at the book that had 
slipped to the ground. The thick rugs deadened the sound 
of his movements, but she knew instinctively that he had 
come in and gone back to the divan where he had been 
sitting before. She knew that he was looking at her. 
She could feel his eyes fixed on her and she quivered 
with the consciousness of his stare. She waited, shiver- 


THE SHEIK 


89 

ing, for him to speak or move. His methods of torture 
were diverse, she thought with dreary bitterness. Behind 
the tent in the men’s lines a tom-tom was beating, and 
the irregular rhythm seemed hammering inside her own 
head. She could have shrieked with the agony of it. 

“ Come here — Diane.” 

■ She started, for a moment hardly recognising the Gallic 
rendering of her name, and then flushed angrily without 
answering or moving. It was a very little thing to stir 
her after all that had been done, but the use of her name 
flamed the anger that had been almost swamped in fear. 
The proprietory tone in his voice roused all her inherent 
obstinacy. She was not his to go at his call. What he 
wanted he must take — she would never give voluntarily. 
She sat with her hands gripped tightly in her lap, breath- 
ing rapidly, her eyes dark with apprehension. 

** Come here,” he repeated sharply. 

Still she took no notice, but the face that he could not 
see was growing very white. 

I am not accustomed to having my brders disobeyed,” 
he said at last, very slowly. 

“And I am not accustomed to obeying orders,” she 
retorted fiercely, though her lips were trembling. 

“You will learn.” The sinister accent of his voice 
almost shattered her remaining courage. 

She crouched, gasping, on the ground, the same horrible 
terror that had come to her last night stealing over her 
irresistibly, paralysing her. Waiting, listening, agonising, 
the tom-tom growing louder and louder — or was it only 
the throbbing in her own head? With a choking cry she 
leaped to her feet suddenly and fled from him, back till 
the side of the tent stopped her and she stood, with wide- 


go THE SHEIK 

flung arms, gripping the black and silver hangings until 
he reached her. 

Stooping he disengaged her clinging fingers from the 
heavy drapery and drew her hands slowly together up 
to his breast with a little smile. “ Come,^’ he whispered, 
his passionate eyes devouring her. 

She fought against the fascination with which they 
dominated her, resisting him dumbly with tight-locked 
lips till he held her palpitating in his arms. 

“ Little fool,"’ he said with a deepening smile. “ Better 
me than my men.^’ 

The gibe broke her silence. 

“ Oh, you brute ! You brute I ” she wailed, until his 
kisses silenced her. 


y 


CHAPTER IV 

month! Thirty-one days! Oh, God! Only 
thirty-one days. It seems a lifetime. Only a month 
since I left Biskra. A month ! A month! ” 

Diana flung herself on to her face, burying her head 
deeply into the cushions of the divan, shutting out from 
her sight the barbaric luxury of her surroundings, shud- 
dering convulsively. She did not cry. The complete 
breakdown of the first night had never been repeated. 
Tears of shame and anger had risen in her eyes often, ; 
but she would not let them fall. She would not give her 
captor the satisfaction of knowing that he could make 
her weep. Her pride was dying hard. Her mind trav- 
elled back slowly over the days and nights of anguished j 
revolt, the perpetual clash of will against will, the en- I 
forced obedience that had made up this month of horror. 

A month of experience of such bitterness that she won- 
dered dully how she still had the courage to rebel. For 
the first time in her life she had had to obey. For the 
first time in her life she was of no account. For the 
first time she had been made conscious of the inferiority 
of her sex. The training of years had broken down 
under the experience. The hypothetical status in which i 
she had stood with regard to Aubrey and his friends was j 
not tolerated here, where every moment she was made to 
feel acutely that she was a woman, forced to submit to 
everything to which her womanhood exposed her, forced 

m 


THE SHEIK 


to endure everything that he might put upon her — a 
chattel, a slave to do his bidding, to bear his pleasure 
and his displeasure, shaken to the very foundation of 
her being with the upheaval of her convictions and the 
ruthless violence done to her cold, sexless temperament. 
The humiliation of it seared her proud heart. He was 
pitiless in his arrogance, pitiless in his Oriental disregard 
of the woman subjugated. He was an Arab, to whom 
the feelings of a woman were non-existent. He had 
taken her to please himself and he kept her to please 
himself, to amuse him in his moments of relaxation. 

To Diana before she had come to Africa the life of 
an Arab Sheik in his native desert had been a very vision- 
ary affair. The term sheik itself was elastic. She had 
been shown Sheiks in Biskra who drove hard bargains to 
hire out mangy camels and sore-covered donkeys for trips 
into the interior. Her own faithless caravan-leader had 
called himself Sheik.” But she had heard also of 
other and different Sheiks who lived far away across the 
shimmering sand, powerful chiefs with large follov/ings, 
who seemed more like the Arabs of her imaginings, and 
of whose lives she had the haziest idea. When not en- 
gaged in killing their neighbours she visualized them 
drowsing away whole days under the influence of nar- 
cotics, lethargic with sensual indulgence. The pictures 
she had seen had been mostly of fat old men sitting cross- 
legged in the entrance of their tents, waited on by hordes 
of retainers, and looking languidly, with an air of utter 
boredom, at some miserable slave being beaten to death. 

She had not been prepared for the ceaseless activity 
of the man whose prisoner she was. His life was hard, 
Strenuous and occupied. His days were full, partly with 


THE SHEIK 


93 


the magnificent horses that he bred, and partly with tribal 
affairs that took him from the camp for hours at a time. 
Upon one or two occasions he had been away for the 
whole night and had come back at daybreak with all the 
evidences of hard riding. Some days she rode with him, 
but when he had not the time or the inclination, the French 
valet went with her. A beautiful grey thoroughbred 
called Silver Star was kept for her use, and sometimes 
on his back she was able to forget for a little time. So 
the moments of relaxation were less frequent than they 
might have been, and it was only in the evenings when 
Gaston had come and gone for the last time and she was 
alone with the Sheik that an icy hand seemed to close 
down over her heart. And, according to his mood, he 
noticed or ignored her. He demanded implicit obedience 
to his lightest whim with the unconscious tyranny of one 
who had always been accustomed to command. He ruled 
his unruly followers despotically, and it was obvious that 
while they loved him they feared him equally. She had 
even seen Yusef, his lieutenant, cringe from the heavy 
scowl that she had, herself, learned to dread. 

‘‘You treat them like dogs,*’ she said to him once. 
“ Are you not afraid that one day they will rise against 
you and murder you ? ” 

And he had only shrugged his shoulders and laughed, 
the same low laugh of amusement that never failed to 
make her shiver. 

The only person v/hose devotion seemed untinged by 
any conflicting sentiment was the French valet, Gaston. 

it was the Sheik’s complete indifference to everything 
beyond his own will, his Oriental egoism, that stung her 
most. He treated her supplications and invectives with 


THE SHEIE 


94 

a like unconcern. The paroxysms of wild rage that filled 
her periodically made no impression on him. He ac- 
corded them a shrug of ennui or watched her with cold 
curiosity, his lips parted in a little cruel smile, as if the 
dissection of her lacerated feelings amused him, until his 
patience was exhausted, and then, with one of the lithe, 
quick movements that she could never evade, his hands 
would grip and hold her and he would look at her. Only 
that, but in the grasp of his lean, brown fingers and under 
the stare of his dark, fierce eyes her own would drop, 
and the frantic words die from her lips. She was physi- 
cally afraid of him, and she hated him and loathed herself 
for the fear he inspired. And her fear was legitimate. 
His strength was abnormal, and behind it was the law- 
lessness and absolutism that allowed free rein to his sav- 
age impulses. He held life and death in his hand. 

A few days after he had taken her she had seen him 
chastise a servant. She did not know what the man’s 
fault had been, but the punishment seemed out of all pro- 
portion to anything that could be imagined, and she had 
watched fascinated with horror, until he had tossed away 
the murderous whip, and without a second glance at the 
limp, blood-stained heap that huddled on the ground with 
suggestive stillness had strolled back unconcerned to the 
tent. The sight had sickened her and haunted her per- 
petually. His callousness horrified her even more than 
his cruelty. She hated him with all the strength of her 
proud, passionate nature. His personal beauty even was 
an additional cause of offence. She hated him the more 
for his handsome face and graceful, muscular body. 
His only redeeming virtue in her eyes was his total lack 
of vanity, which she grudgingly admitted. He was as 


THE SHEIK 


95 

unconscious of himself as was the wild animal with 
which she compared him. 

He is like a tiger,” she murmured deep into the 
cushions, with a shiver, “ a graceful, cruel, merciless 
beast.” She remembered a tiger she had shot the previous 
winter in India. After hours of weary, cramped waiting 
in the machan the beautiful creature had slipped noise- 
lessly through the undergrowth and emerged into the 
clearing. He had advanced midway towards the tree 
where she was perched and had stopped to listen, and the 
long, free stride, the haughty poise of the thrown-back 
head, the cruel curl of the lips and the glint in the fero- 
cious eyes flashing in the moonlight, were identical with 
the expression and carriage of the man who was her 
master. Then it had been admiration without fear, and 
she had hesitated at wantonly destroying so perfect a 
thing, until the quick pressure of her shikari’s fingers on 
her arm brought her back to facts and reminded her that 
the “ perfect thing ” was reported to have eaten a woman 
the previous week. And now it was fear with a reluct- 
ant admiration that she despised herself for according. 

A hand on her shoulder made her start up with a cry. 
Usually her nerves were in better control, but the thick 
rugs deadened every sound, and she had not expected him 
so soon. He had been out since dawn and had come in 
much past his usual time, and had been having a belated 
siesta in the adjoining room. 

Angry with herself she bit her lip and pushed the 
tumbled hair off her forehead. He dropped on to the 
divan beside her and lit the inevitable cigarette; he 
smoked continuously every moment he was not in the 
saddle. She glanced at him covertly. He was lying with 


THE SHEIK 


96 

his head thrown back against the cushions, idly blowing 
smoke-rings and watching them drift towards the open 
door-way. And as she looked he yawned and turned to 
her. 

“ Zilah is careless. Insist that she puts away your 
boots, and does not leave your clothes lying on the floor. 
There was a scorpion in the bathroom to-day,” he said 
lazily, stretching out his long legs. 

She flushed hotly, as she always did when he made any 
casual reference to the intimacy of their life. It was his 
casualness that frightened her, the carelessly implied con- 
tinuance of a state that scorched her with shame. His 
attitude invariably suggested a duration of their relations 
that left her numb with a kind of helpless despair. He 
was so sure of himself, so sure of his possession of her. 

She felt the warm blood pouring over her face now, 
up to the roots of her bright hair and dyeing her slender 
neck, and she put her hands up to her head, her Angers 
thrust through her loose curls, to shield her face from his 
eyes. 

She gave a sigh of relief when Gaston came in bringing 
a little tray with two filigree-cased cups of coffee. 

I have brought coffee ; Madame's tea is finished,” he 
murmured in tones of deepest distress, and with a ges- 
ture that conveyed a national calamity. 

There had been just enough tea taken on the tour to 
last a month. It was another pin-prick, another reminder. 
She set her teeth, moving her head angrily, and found 
herself looking into a pair of mocking eyes, and, as al- 
ways, her own dropped. 

Gaston said a few words in Arabic to his master, and 
the Sheik swallowed the boiling coffee and went out 


THE SHEIK 


97 

hastily. The valet moved about the tent with his usual 
deft noiselessness, gathering up cigarette ends and spent 
matches, and tidying the room with an assiduous orderli- 
ness that was peculiarly his own. Diana watched him 
almost peevishly. Was it the influence of the desert that 
made all these men cat-like in their movements, or was 
the servant consciously or unconsciously copying his mas- 
ter? With a sudden fit of childish irritability she longed 
to smash something, and, with an impetuous hand, sent 
the little inlaid table with the tray and coffee-cups flying. 
She was ashamed of the impulse even before the crash 
came, and looked at Gaston clearing up the debris with 
anxious eyes. What was the matter with her? The 
even temper on which she prided herself and the nerves 
that had been her boast had vanished, gone by the board 
in the last month. If her nerve failed her utterly what 
would become of her ? What would she do ? 

Gaston had gone, and she looked around the tent with 
a hunted expression. There seemed no escape possible 
from the misery that was almost more than she could 
bear. 

There was a way out that had been in her mind often, 
and she had searched frequently in the hope that she 
might find the means. But the Sheik had also thought 
and had taken precautions. One day it seemed as if her 
desperate wish might be fulfilled, and she had had only a 
moment’s hesitation as she stretched out her hand to take 
the revolver that had been left lying on a table, but as 
her fingers closed on the butt a muscular hand closed 
over hers. He had come in with his usual silent step and 
was close to her without her knowing. He had taken 
the weapon from her quietly* holding her eyes with his 


THE SHEIK 


98 

own, and had jerked it open, showing the empty mag- 
azine. ‘‘ Do you think that I am quite a fool ? ” he had 
asked without a trace of expression in his voice. 

And since then she had been under a ceaseless, unob- 
trusive surveillance that had left her no chance of carry- 
ing out her terrible resolve. She buried her face in her 
hands. “ Oh, my God ! Is it never going to end? Am I 
never going to get away from him?” 

She sprang to her feet and walked restlessly round 
the tent, her hands clasped behind her back, her head 
thrown up, and her lips pressed close together. She 
panted as if she had been running, and her eyes had a 
far-away, unseeing look. Gradually she got command of 
herself again and the nervous excitement died down, 
leaving her weary and very desolate. The solitude 
seemed suddenly horrible. Anything would be better 
than the silent emptiness of the great tent. A noise out- 
side attracted her, and she wandered to the doorway and 
out under the awning. Near her the Sheik with Gaston 
and Yusef stood watching a mad, ramping colt that was 
being held with difficulty by two or three men, who clung 
to him tenaciously in spite of his efforts to break away, 
and beyond was a semi-circle of Arabs, some mounted and 
some on foot, leaving a wide, open space between them 
and the tent. They were intensely excited, talking and 
gesticulating, the mounted men riding round the outer 
ring that they formed. Diana leaned against one of the 
lances that supported the awning and watched the scene 
with growing interest. This camp was many miles to the 
south of the one to which she had first been brought, and 
which had been broken up a few days after her capture. 
The setting was wonderful, the far-off hills dusky in the 


THE SHEIK 


99 

afternoon light, the clustering palms behind the tents, 
the crowd of barbaric figures in picturesque, white robes, 
the horsemen moving continuously up and down, and in 
the midst of everything the beautiful, wild creature, 
frenzied by the noise, kicking and biting at the men hold- 
ing him. After a moment the Sheik held up his hand, 
and a man detached himself from the chattering crowd 
and came to him salaaming. The Sheik said a few words, 
and with another salaam and a gleam of white teeth, the 
man turned and approached the struggling group in the 
centre of the ring. 

Diana straightened up with interest. The frantic colt 
was going to be broken. It was already saddled. Sev- 
eral additional men ran forward, and between them the 
horse was forcibly held for a moment — only for a mo- 
ment, but it was long enough for the man who leaped 
like a flash on to his back. The others fell away, racing 
from the reach of the terrible lashing heels. Amazed for 
the moment at the sudden unaccustomed weight, the colt 
paused, and then reared straight up, till it seemed to Diana 
that he must fall backvv^ard and crush the man who was 
clinging to him. But he came down at last, and for a few 
moments it was almost impossible to follow his spasmodic 
movements as he strove to rid himself of his rider. The 
end came quickly. With a twisting heave of his whole 
body he shot the Arab over his head, who landed with a 
dull thud and lay still, while the men who had been holding 
the colt dashed in and secured him before he was aware 
of his liberty. Diana looked towards the fallen man; a 
little crowd were gathered around him, and her heart beat 
faster as she thought that he was dead. Dead so quickly, 
and only a moment before he had been so full of life and 


lOO 


THE SHEIK 


strength. Death meant nothing to these savages, she 
thought bitterly, as she watched the limp body being car- 
ried away by three or four men, who argued violently 
over their burden. She glanced at the Sheik. He seemed 
perfectly unconcerned and did not even look in the direc- 
tion of the man who had fallen. On the contrary, he 
laughed, and, turning to Yusef, put his hand on his shoul- 
der and nodded towards the colt. Diana gave a gasp. 
He spared no one. He was going to make the young man 
take his chance as the rough-rider had taken his. She 
knew that the lieutenant rode well, as did all Ahmed Ben 
Hassan^s followers, and that his languid rnanner was only 
a pose, but he looked so young and boyish, and the risk 
seemed enormous. She had seen colts broken before 
many times, but never a colt so madly savage as this one. 
But to Yusef the chance was evidently welcome. With an 
answering laugh, he swaggered out into the arena, where 
the men greeted him with shouts. There was the same 
procedure as before, and Yusef bounded up lightly into 
the saddle. This time, instead of rearing, the frightened 
beast dashed forward in a wild effort to escape, but the 
mounted men, closing up, headed him into the middle of 
the ring again, and he went back to his first tactics with 
a rapidity that was too much for the handsome lad on his 
back, and in a few moments he was thrown heavily. 
With a shrill scream the colt turned on him open-mouthed, 
and Yusef flung up one arm to save his face. But the 
men reached him in time, dragging the colt from him by 
main force. He rose to his feet unsteadily and limped to 
the tents behind. Diana could not see him easily for the 
throng around him. 

Again she looked at the Sheik and ground her teeth. 


THE SHEIK 


lOI 


He was stooping to light a cigarette from a match that 
Gaston was holding, and then they walked together nearer 
to the colt. The animal was now thoroughly maddened, 
and it was increasingly difficult to hold him. They went 
up close to the struggling, yelling grooms, and the next 
minute Diana saw Gaston sitting firmly in the empty 
saddle. The little man rode magnificently, and put up a 
longer fight than the others had done, but at last his turn 
came, and he went flying over the colt’s head. He came 
down Jightly on his hands and knees, and scrambled to 
his feet in an instant amidst a storm of shouts and laugh- 
ter. Laughing himself he came back to the Sheik with a 
shrug of the shoulders and outspread, eloquent hands. 
They spoke together for a moment, too low for Diana to 
hear, and then Ahmed Ben Hassan went again into the 
middle of the ring. Diana’s breath came more quickly. 
She guessed his intention before he reached the colt, and 
she moved forward from under the awning and joined 
Gaston, who was wrapping his handkerchief round a torn 
hand. 

Monseigneur will try ? ” she asked a little breathlessly. 

Gaston looked at her quickly. “Try, Madame?” he 
repeated in a queer voice. “ Yes, he will try.” 

Again the empty saddle was filled, and a curious hush 
came over the watching crowd. Diana looked on with 
bright, hard eyes, her heart beating heavily. She longed 
passionately that the colt might kill him, and, at the same 
time, illogically, she wanted to see him master the infur- 
iated animal. The sporting instinct in her acknowledged 
and responded to the fight that was going on before her 
eyes. She hated him and she hoped that he might die, 
but she was forced to admire the wonderful horsemanship 


102 


THE SHEIK 


that she was watching. The Sheik sat like a rock, and 
every ef¥ort made to unseat him was unsuccessful. The 
colt plunged wildly, making furious blind dashes back- 
ward and forward, stopping dead in the hope of dis- 
lodging his rider, twirling round suddenly until it seemed 
impossible that he could keep his feet. Then he started 
rearing, straight up, his forelegs beating the air, higher 
and higher, and then down, to commence again without 
a moment’s breathing-space. 

Diana heard Gaston’s breath whistle through his teeth. 
“ Look, Madame ! ” he cried sharply, and Diana saw the 
Sheik give a quick glance behind him, and, as the colt 
shot up again, almost perpendicular, with a jerk he pulled 
him deliberately over backwards,' leaping clear with a tre- 
mendous effort as the horse crashed to the ground. He 
was in the saddle again almost before the dazed creature 
had struggled to its feet. And then began a scene that 
Diana never forgot. It was the final struggle that was 
to end in defeat for either man or horse, and the Sheik 
had decided that it was not to be for the man. It was a 
punishment of which the untamed animal was never to 
lose remembrance. The savagery and determination of 
the man against the mad determination of the horse. It 
was a hideous exhibition of brute strength and merciless 
cruelty. Diana was almost sick with horror from the 
beginning; she longed to turn away, but her eyes clung 
fascinated to the battle that was going on. The hush that 
had fallen on the crowd had given way to roars of excite- 
ment, and the men pressed forward eagerly, to give back 
precipitately when the still-fighting animal’s heels flashed 
too near. 

Diana was shaking all over and her hands were clench- 


THE SHEIK 


tos 

mg and unclenching as she stared at the man, who seemed 
a part of the horse he was sitting so closely. Would it 
never end ? She did not care now which killed the other 
so that it would only stop. The man’s endurance seemed 
mere bravado. She clutched Gaston’s arms with a hand 
that was wringing wet. It is horrible,” she gasped with 
an accent of loathing. 

“ It is necessary,” he replied quietly. 

‘‘ Nothing can justify that,” she cried passionately. 

“ Your pardon, Madame. He must learn. He killed 
a man this morning, threw him, and what you call in 
English * savaged ’ him.” 

Diana hid her face in her hands, ** I can’t bear it,” 
she said pitifully. 

A few minutes later Gaston clicked his tongue against 
his teeth. “ See, Madame. It is over,” he said gently. 

She looked up fearfully. The Sheik was standing on 
the ground beside the colt, who was swaying slowly from 
side to side with heaving sides and head held low to the 
earth, dripping blood and foam. And as she looked he 
tottered and collapsed exhausted. There was a rush from 
all sides, and Gaston went towards his master, who tow- 
ered above the crowd around him. 

Diana turned away with an exclamation of disgust. 
It was enough to have seen a display of such brutality; 
it was too much to stand by while his fellow-savages ac- 
claimed him for his cruelty. 

She went slowly back into the tent, shaken with what 
she had seen, and stood in undecided hesitation beside the 
divan. The helpless feeling that she so often experi- 
enced swept over her with renewed force. There was 
nowhere that she could get away from him, no privacy, 


104 


THE SHEIK 


no respite. Day and night she must endure his presence 
with no hope of escape. She closed her eyes in a sudden 
agony, and then stiffened at the sound of his voice out- 
side. 

He came in laughing, a cigarette dangling from one 
blood-stained hand, while with the other he wiped the 
perspiration from his forehead, leaving a dull red smear. 
She shrank from him, looking at him with blazing eyes. 
“ You are a brute, a beast, a devil ! I hate you ! ” she 
choked furiously. 

For a moment an ugly look crossed his face, and then 
he laughed again. ‘‘ Hate me by all means, ma belle, but 
let your hatred be thorough. I detest mediocrity,” he 
said lightly, as he passed on into the other room. 

She sank down on to the couch. She had never felt so 
desperate, so powerless. She stared straight before her, 
shivering, as she went over the scene she had just wit- 
nessed, her fingers picking nervously at the jade-green silk 
of her dress. She longed for some power that would 
deaden her feelings and blunt her capacity for suffering. 
She looked at Gaston with hard eyes when he came in. 
He had approved of what the Sheik had done, would have 
done it himself if he had been able. They were all alike. 

The man who was hurt first,” she asked abruptly, 
with a touch of her old hauteur in her voice, “is he 
dead?” 

“ Oh no, Madame. He has concussion but he will be 
all right. They have hard heads, these Arabs.” 

“ And Yusef?” 

Gaston grinned. “ Le petit Sheik has a broken collar- 
bone. It is nothing. A few days’ holiday to be petted 
in his harem, et voila!** 


THE SHEIK . 105 

“His harem?" echoed Diana in surprise. “Is he 
married ? ” 

** Mais oui, Madame. He has two wives.” 

At Diana's exclamation he shrugged deprecatingly. 
^ Que voulez-vousf It is the custom of the country,” he 
said tolerantly, with the air of conceding a melancholy 
fact with the best grace possible. 

The customs of the country was dangerous ground, and 
Diana changed the subject hastily. Where did you learn 
to ride, Gaston?” 

** In a racing-stable at Auteuil, Madame, when I was a 
boy. Then I was five years in the French cavalry. Af- 
t«/ that I came to Monseigneur.” 

“And you have been with him — how long ? ” 

“ Fifteen years, Madame.” 

“ Fifteen years,” she repeated wonderingly. “ Fifteen 
years here, in the desert ? ” 

“Here and elsewhere, Madame,” he answered rather 
more shortly than usual, and with a murmur of excuse 
left the tent. 

Diana leaned back against the cushions with a little 
sigh. Gaston need not have been afraid that she was 
trying to learn his master’s secrets from him. She had 
not fallen as low as that. The mystery of the man whose 
path had crossed hers so terribly seemed to augment in- 
stead of lessen as the time went on. What was the power 
in him that compelled the devotion of his wild followers 
and the little French ex-cavalryman? She knit her fore- 
head in perplexity and was still .puzzling over it when he 
came back. Immaculate and w^ell-groomed he was very 
different from the dishevelled, bloodstained savage of half- 
an-hour before. She shot a nervous glance at him, re- 


/ 


THE SHEIK 



f io6 

membering her outburst, but he was not angry. He 
looked grave, but his gravity seemed centred in himself 
as he passed his lean fingers tenderly over his smooth 
chin. She had seen Aubrey do similarly hundreds of 
times. Occidental or Oriental, men seemed very alike. 
She waited for him to speak and waited vainly. One of 
the taciturn fits to which she had grown accustomed had 
come over him — hours sometimes in which he simply 
ignored her altogether. The evening meal was silent. 
He spoke once to Gaston, but he spoke in Arabic, and 
the servant replied only with a nod of compliance. And 
after Gaston was gone he did not speak for a long time, 
but sat on the divan, apparently absorbed in his thoughts. 

Restless, Diana moved about the tent, listlessly exam- 
ining objects that she knew by heart, and flirting over the 
pages of the French magazines she had read a dozen times. 
Usually she was thankful for his silent moods. To-night 
with a woman^s perversity she wanted him to speak. She 
was unstrung, and the utter silence oppressed her. She 
glanced over her shoulder at him once or twice, but his 
back looked unapproachable. Yet when he called her, 
with a swift revulsion of feeling, she wished he had kept 
silent. She went to him slowly. She was too unnerved 
to-night to struggle against him. What would be the use? 
she thought wearily; it would only end in defeat as it 
always did. He pulled her down on the divan beside him, 
and before she realised what he was doing slipped a long 
jade necklace over her head. For a moment she looked 
stupidly at the wonderful thing, almost unique in the pur- 
ity of its colour and the marvellous carving on the uniform 
square pieces of which it was composed, and then with a 
low cry she tore it off and flung it on the ground. 


THE SHEIK 


107 


How dare you ? ” she gasped. 

'^You don’t like it?” he asked in his low, unruffled 
voice, his eyebrows raised in real or assumed surprise. 
“ Yet it matches your dress,” and lightly his long fingers 
touched the folds of green silk swathed across the youth- 
ful curve of her breast. He glanced at an open box filled 
with shimmering stones on a low stool beside him. 

** Pearls are too cold and diamonds too banal for you,” 
he said slowly. ** You should wear nothing but jade. 
It is the colour of the evening sky against the sunset of 
your hair.” 

He had never spoken like that to her before, or used 
that tone of voice. His methods had been more fierce 
than tender. She glanced up swiftly at his face, but it 
baffled her. There was no love in his eyes or even desire, 
nothing but an unusual gentleness. “ Perhaps you would 
prefer the diamonds and the pearls,” he went on, pointing 
disdainfully at the box. 

“ No, no. I hate them ! I hate them all ! I will not 
wear your jewels. You have no right to think that I am 
that kind of woman,” she cried hysterically. 

“You do not like them? Bon Dieu! None of the 
other women ever refused them. On the contrary, they 
could never get enough,” he said with a laugh. 

Diana looked up with a startled glance, a look of horror 
dawning in her eyes. “ Other women ? ” she repeated 
blankly. 

“ You didn’t suppose you were the first, did you? ” he 
asked with brutal candour. “ Don’t look at me like that. 
They were not like you, they came to me willingly enough 
— too willingly. Allah! How they bored me! I tired 
of them before they tired of me.” 


io8 


THE SHEIK 


She flung her arm across her eyes with a dry sob, 
straining away from him. She had never thought of that. 
In the purity of her mind it had never occurred to her. 
She was only one of many, one of a succession of mis- 
tresses, taken and discarded at his whim. She writhed 
with the shame that filled her. Oh, you hurt me ! ” she 
whispered very low, and then anger killed all other feel- 
ing. He had loosened his arm about her and she 
wrenched herself free and sprang to her feet. ** I hate 
you, do you understand ? I hate you ! I hate you ! ” 

He lit a cigarette leisurely before answering and moved 
into a more comfortable position on the divan. ** So you 
have already told me this afternoon,’’ he said at length 
coolly, ‘'and with reiteration your remark becomes less 
convincing, ma cherief* 

Her anger ebbed away. She was too tired to be angry. 
She was humiliated and hurt, and the man before her had 
it in his power to hurt her more, but she was at his mercy 
and to-night she could not fight. She pushed the hair ofif 
her forehead with a heavy sigh and looked at the Sheik’s 
long length stretched out on the couch, the steely strength 
of his limbs patent even in the indolent attitude in which 
he was lying, at his brown handsome face, inscrutable as . 
it always was to her, and the feeling of helplessness came 
back with renewed force and with it the sense of her own 
pitiful weakness against his force, compelling her to speak. 
“ Have you never felt pity for a thing that was weaker 
than yourself? Have 5^ou never spared anything or any 
one in all your life? Have you nothing in your nature 
but cruelty ? Are all Arabs hard like you ? ” she said 
shakily. “ Has love never even made you merci- 
ful?” 


THE SHEIK 


109 

He glanced up at her with a harsh laugh, and shook his 
head. '“Love? Connais pas! Yes, I do,’^ he added 
with swift mockery, “ I love my horses.” 

“ When you don’t kill them,” she retorted. 

“ I am corrected. When I don’t kill them.” 

There was something in his voice that made her reck- 
less, that made her want to hurt him. “If you give no 
love to the — the women whom you bring here, do you 
give love to the women of your harem? You have a 
harem, I suppose, somewhere ? ” she braved him with 
curling lip and scornful voice, but as she spoke she knew 
that she had only hurt herself and her voice faltered. 

His hand reached out suddenly and he dragged her 
down into his arms again with a laugh. “ And if I have, 
are you jealous? What if the nights I spent away from 
you were passed in my harem — what then ? ” 

“ Then may Allah put it into the heart of one of your 
wives to poison you so that you never come back,” she 
said fiercely. 

“ Allah ! So beautiful and so bloodthirsty,” he said in 
bantering reproof. Then he turned her face up to his, 
' smiling into 'her angry eyes with amusement. “ I have 
no harem and, thanks be to Allah, no wives, cherie. 
Does that please you ? ” 

“ Why should I care ? It is nothing to me,” she replied 
sharply, with a vivid blush. 

He held her closer, looking deeply into her eyes, hold- 
ing them as he could when he liked, in spite of her efforts 
to turn them away — a mesmerism she could not resist. 

“ Shall I make you care ? Shall I make you love rue ? 
I can make women love me when I choose.” 

She went very white and her eyes flickered. She knew 


no 


THE SHEIK 


that he was only amusing himself, that he was utterly in- 
different to her feelings, that he did not care if she hated 
or loved him, but it was a new form of torture that was 
more detestable than anything that had gone before it. 
It infuriated her that he could even suggest that she 
could come to care for him, that she could ever look on 
him as anything but a brutal savage who had committed a 
hideous outrage, that she could ever have any feeling for 
him except hatred and loathing. That he should class 
her with the other women he spoke of revolted her, she 
felt degraded, soiled as she had never done before, and 
she had thought that she had felt the utmost humiliation 
of her position. 

The colour rushed back into her face. “ I would rather 
you killed me,” she cried passionately. 

So would I,” he said drily, ‘‘ for if you loved me you 
would bore me and I should have to let you go. While 
as it is ” — he laughed softly — as it is I do not regret 
the chance that took me into Biskra that day.” 

He let her go and got up with a yawn, watching her 
approvingly as she crossed the tent. The easy swing of 
her boyish figure and the defiant carriage of her head 
reminded him of one of his own thoroughbred horses. 
She was as beautiful and as wild as they were. And as 
he broke them so would he break her. She was nearly 
tamed now, but not quite, and by Allah! it should be 
quite! As he turned his foot struck against the jade 
necklace lying on the rug where she had thrown it. He 
picked it up and called her back. She came reluctantly, 
slowly, with mutinous eyes. 

He held out the necklace silently, and silently she stared 
not at it but at him. Her heart began to beat faster, and 


THE SHEIK HU 

the colour slowly left her face. “ Take it. I wish it,” he 
said quietly. 

** No.” It was little more than a gasp. 

You will wear it to please me,” he went on in the 
same soft voice, and the old hateful mockery crept into 
his eyes, “ to please my artistic soul. I have an artistic 
soul even though I am only an Arab.” 
will not!” 

The mockery was wiped out of his eyes in a flash, giv- 
ing place to the usual ferocity, and his forehead knit in 
the dreaded heavy scowl. Diane, obey me ! ” 

She clenched her teeth on her lower lip until a rim of 
blood stained their whiteness. If he would only shout or 
bluster like the average angry man she felt that she could 
brave him longer, but the cold quiet rage that character- 
ised him always was infinitely more sinister, and paralysed 
her with its silent force. She had never heard him raise 
his voice in anger or quicken his usual slow, soft tone, but 
there was an inflection that came into his voice and a look 
that came into his eyes that was more terrible than any 
outburst. She had seen his men shrink when, standing 
near him, she had barely been able to hear what he had 
said. She had seen a look from him silence a clamorous 
quarrel that had broken out among his followers too close 
to his own tent for his pleasure. And that inflection was 
in his voice and that look was in his eyes now. It was 
no longer use to resist. The fear of him was an agony. 
She would have to obey, as in the end he always forced 
her to obey. She wrenched her eyes away from his com- 
pelling stare, her bosom heaving under the soft silk, her 
chin quivering, and reached out blindly and took it from 
him. But the sudden chill of it against her bare breast 


1 12 


THE SHEIK 


seemed to revive the courage that was not yet dead in her. 
She flung up her head, the transient colour flaming into 
her cheeks, and her lips sprang open, but he drew her to 
him swiftly, and laid his hand over her mouth. ** I know, 
I know,^^ he said coldly. “ I am a brute and a beast and 
a devil. You need not tell me again. It commences to 
grow tedious.*' His hand slipped to her shoulder, his 
fingers gripping the delicate, rounded arm. How much 
longer are you going to fight? Would it not be wiser 
after what you have seen to-day to recognise that I am 
master? ” 

“ You mean that you will treat me as you treated the 
colt this afternoon?” she whispered, her eyes drawn back 
irresistibly to his in spite of all her efforts. 

“ I mean that you must realise that my will is law.” 

“ And if I do not? ” He guessed rather than heard the 
words. 

“Then I will teach you, and I think that you will 
learn — soon.” 

She quivered in his hands. It was a threat, but how 
much of it he meant to be taken literally she did not know. 
Again every ghastly detail of the afternoon passed with 
lightning speed through her mind. When he punished 
he punished mercilessl3^ To what lengths would he go? 
The Arab standards were not those of the men amongst 
whom she had lived. The position of a woman in the 
desert was a very precarious one. There were times 
when she forgot altogether that he was an Arab until some 
chance, as now, drove the hard fact home indisputably. 
He was an Arab, and as a woman she need expect no 
mercy at his hands. His hands! She looked down for 
a second sideways at the fingers gripping her shoulder 


THE SHEIK 


113 

and she saw them again stained with blood, saw them 
clenched round the dripping thong. She knew already by 
bitter experience the iron grip of his lean fingers and the 
compelling strength of his arms. Her quick imagination 
leaped ahead. What she had already suffered would be 
nothing compared with what would be. The remem- 
brance of the stained, huddled figure of the servant he had 
chastised rose before her. And as she battled with her- 
self, still torn in her passionate desire to make her strong 
will and courageous spirit triumph over her coward 
woman’s body that shrank instinctively from physical tor- 
ture, his arm tightened around her and she felt the hard 
muscles pressing against her shoulders and soft, bare 
neck, a suggestion of the force lying dormant beside her. 
She looked up at him slowly. 

His expression was unchanged, his forehead was still 
drawn together in the heavy frown and there was no 
softening in his eyes. The cruel lines about his mouth 
were accentuated and the tiger-look in his face was more 
marked than ever. He was not threatening idly ; he meant 
what he said. 

“You had better kill me,” she said ^drearily. 

“ That would be to admit my own defeat,” he replied 
coolly. “ I do not kill a horse until I have proved beyond 
all possible doubt that I cannot tame it. With you I have 
no such proof. I can tame you and I will. But it is for 
you to choose and to choose to-night if you will obey me 
willingly or if I must make you. I have been very pa- 
tient — for me,” he added, with an odd smile flitting 
across his face, “ but my patience is exhausted. Choose 
quickly.” Insensibly he drew her closer to him till his 
arm felt like an inflexible steel band about her, and she 


THE SHEIK 


114 

thought with a shudder of the coils of a great serpent 
closing round its victim. She made a final effort to con- 
quer herself, but between her and the broad chest so close 
to her she seemed to see a horse’s head held low in agony, 
blood and foam dripping from his lacerated mouth, and a 
horse’s flanks heaving piteously, torn with the cruel pun- 
ishment he had undergone. A sudden nausea came over 
her, everything seemed to swim before her eyes, and she 
swayed against the man who was holding her. Her bodily 
fear overruled her mind. She could not bear any more. 

I will obey you,” she whispered heavily. 

He took her chin in his fingers and jerked her head up 
sharply, staring at her intently until she felt he was look- 
ing into her very soul. The heavy scowl smoothed away 
but the fierceness lingered in his eyes. Good ! ” he said 
at length briefly. “ You are wise,” he added significantly. 
He tilted her head further back, bending his own down 
until his lips were nearly touching hers. She shivered 
involuntarily, an anguished appeal leaping into her eyes. 
He smiled ironically. “ Do you hate them so much, my 
kisses ? ” 

She swallowed convulsively. 

“ You are at least candid if you are not compliment- 
ary ; ” and with that he released her and turned away. 

She reached the curtain that divided the two rooms, her 
heart beating wildly, giddy with the strain that she had 
gone through. She paused a moment and looked back at 
him, amazed at her own temerity. He had unbuttoned the 
flap of the tent and was standing in the entrance looking 
out into the night. The scent of the peculiar tobacco he 
used drifted to her with the draught from the open door. 
Her eyes grew puzzled. Would she ever understand 


THE SHEIK 


115 

him? To-night he had given her a choice instead of sim- 
ply enforcing his will, he had made her choose to save 
herself, he had proved his determination and his mastery 
over her. And with his last words the unexpected gen- 
tleness had come into his voice again and the cruel lines 
about his mouth had relaxed in a smile of amusement. It 
was the swift transition from ferocity to gentleness that 
she could never fathom. His complex nature was beyond 
her understanding. She would not try to understand 
him; she could never know the depths of his baffling 
personality. She only knew that for some reason of his 
own he had spared her, and she feared him more than 
ever. 


CHAPTER V 


Under the awning of the tent Diana was waiting for 
Gaston and the horses, pulling on her thick riding-gloves 
nervously. She was wrought up to the utmost pitch of 
excitement. Ahmed Ben Hassan had been away since the 
previous day and it was uncertain if he would return 
that night or the next. He had been vague as to how 
long he would be absent. There had been a constant 
coming and going amongst his followers — messengers 
arriving on exhausted horses at all hours of the day and 
night, and the Sheik himself had seemed unusually pre- 
occupied. He had not condescended to ^^ive any reason 
for the special activity of his people and she had not 
asked him. 

In the four weeks that had elapsed since she had pro- 
mised him her obedience she had been very silent. The 
fear and hatred of him grew daily. She had learned to 
stifle the wild fits of rage and the angry words that 
leaped to her lips. She had learned to obey — a reluctant 
obedience given with compressed lips and defiant eyes, 
but given, and with a silence that surprised even herself. 
Day after day she had followed the usual routine, dumb 
unless he spoke to her; and with his own attention occu- 
pied with matters beyond the four walls of his tent he 
had not noticed or did not trouble to heed her silence. 
Lately he had left her very much alone; she had ridden 
with him almost daily until the last week, when he had 

ii6 


THE SHEIK 


117 

announced curtly that in the meantime the length of her 
rides must be curtailed and that Gaston would accompany 
her. He had not offered any explanation, and she had 
not sought one. She had chosen to see in it merely 
another act of tyranny imposed on her by the man whose 
arbitrary exercise of power over her and whose tacit 
possession of her galled her continually. And under the 
sullen submission a wild fury of revolt was raging. She 
searched feverishly for means of flight, and now the 
Sheik’s absence seemed to have given her the chance she 
had been waiting for. In the solitude of the previous 
night she had tossed impatiently from side to side of the 
big couch, vainly trying to find some means of taking 
advantage of her comparative freedom to effect her es- 
cape. Surely she could find some way of avoiding Gas- 
ton’s vigilance. Excitement had kept her awake half the 
night, and in the morning she had had hard work to keep 
her agitation hidden and to appear as usual. She had 
even been afraid to order the horses any earlier in her 
nervous terror lest the valet should suspect there was any 
reason behind the simple request. After her petit 
dejeuner she had paced the tent, unable to sit still, dread- 
ing lest any moment might bring the return of the Sheik 
and frustrate her hopes. She looked back into the room 
with a shudder as her eyes travelled over the luxurious 
appointments and different objects that had become so 
curiously familiar in the last two months. The unex- 
pected equipments and the man’s own baffling personality 
would remain in her recollection always as an enigma 
that she Vv^ould never be able to solve. So much had been 
so inexplicable in himself and in his mode of life. She 
drew a long breath and went out hastily into the sunshine. 


ii8 


THE SHEIK 


The horses were waiting, and Gaston was standing 
ready to hold her stirrup. She fondled the beautiful grey 
horse’s soft nose and patted his satiny neck with a hand 
that trembled a little. She loved the horse and to-day he 
should be the means of saving her. He responded to her 
caresses, gentling her with slobbering mouth and whinny- 
ing softly. With one last look at the big double tent and 
the rest of the camp behind it she mounted and rode away 
without another backward glance. She had to exercise 
a rigid control over herself. She longed to put Silver 
Star into a hand gallop at once and shake off Gaston, but 
she was still too near the camp. She must be - patient 
and put a certain number of miles between herself and 
the possibility of pursuit before she attempted anything. 
Too early an endeavour would only bring the whole 
horde in wild chase at her heels. The thought of the 
promise she had given to the man from whom she was 
flying came back to her. She had promised obedience, 
but she had not promised that she would not try to 
escape, and, if she had, no promise wrung from her by 
fear was valid in her opinion. 

She rode steadily forward at a slow, swinging canter, 
instinctively saving her horse, plan after plan passing 
through her brain to be rejected as impracticable. Silver 
Star fretted continually at the moderate pace, tossing his 
head and catching at his bit. She took no heed of the 
time beyond the fact that it was passing quickly, and 
that if anything was to be done it must be done as soon 
as possible. But Gaston, riding a few paces behind her, 
was very much alive to the hour and had looked several 
times at his watch. He ranged alongside of her now 
with a murmured apology. Pardon, Madame. It 


THE SHEIK 


119 

grows late/' and submitted his wrist watch for her in- 
spection. 

Diana glanced mechanically at her own wrist and then 
remembered that she had broken her watch the day before. 
She pulled up, and tilting her helmet back mopped her 
hot forehead, and, as she did so, a sharp breeze sprang 
up, the curious wind that comes and goes so rapidly in the 
desert. An idea flashed into her mind. It was a poor 
chance, but it might succeed. She shot a glance at Gas- 
ton. He was looking in the opposite direction, and, rais- 
ing her hand, she fluttered her handkerchief a moment in 
the breeze and then let it go. The wind carried it some 
distance away. She gave a little cry and caught at the 
bridle of the valet's horse. 

Oh, Gaston, my handkerchief ! " and pointed to where 
the morsel of cambric lay white against a rock. With a 
comical exclamation of dismay he slipped to the ground 
and started to run across the sand. 

She waited until he had got well on his way, sitting 
tense with shining eyes and thumping heart, then, snatch- 
ing oflf her helmet, she brought it down with a resounding 
smack on the hindquarters of the servant's horse, stam- 
peding it in the direction of the camp, and, wheeling Silver 
Star, headed for the north, deaf to Gaston's cries. 

Wild with excitement and free to go his own pace at 
last her mount galloped swiftly and the wind whistled 
past Diana's ears. To the possible fate of the little 
Frenchman left on foot so far from the encampment she 
gave no heed. For the moment she did not even think of 
him, she had no thought for anybody but herself. Her 
ruse by its very simplicity had succeeded. She was free 
and !she did not care about anything else. She had no 


] 


120 


THE SHEIK 


plans or ideas what she should do or where she should 
go beyond the fact that she would keep riding northward. 
She had vague hopes that she might fall in with friendly 
Arabs who, for a promised reward, would guide her to 
civilisation. Most of them could speak a little French, 
and for the rest her small stock of Arabic must do. She 
knew that she was mad to attempt to ride across the desert 
alone, but she did not mind. She was free. She was 
too excited to think coherently. She laughed and shouted 
like a m.ad thing and her madness communicated itself to 
the grey, who was going at racing speed. Diana knew 
that he was out of control, that she could not stop him if 
she tried, but she did not want to try, the faster the better. 
In time he would tire himself, but until then let him go 
as he pleased. She was fast putting miles between her- 
self and the camp that had been a prison, between herself 
and the brute who had dared to do what he had done. 
At the thought of the Sheik a sick feeling of fear ran 
through her. If anything should happen? If he should 
catch her again? She shuddered, and a cry burst from 
her lips, but she gripped herself at once. She was idiotic, 
contemptible ; it was impossible... It would be hours, per- 
haps even the next day, before the alarm was given; he 
would not know in what direction she had gone. She 
would have miles of start on one of the fleetest of his 
horses. She tried to put him out of her mind. She had 
escaped from him. and his cruelty, it was a nightmare that 
was over. The effects would remain with her always, noth- 
ing would ever be the same again, but the daily dread, the 
daily contamination would be gone, the helpless tortured 
feeling, the shame of submission that had filled her with 
an acute self-loathing that was as intense as her passionate 


THE SHEIK 


121 


hatred of the man who had forced her to endure his will. 
The memory of it would live with her for ever. He had 
made her a vile thing. Her cheeks scorched with the 
thought and she shivered at the remembrance of all that 
she had gone through. She had been down into the 
depths and she would carry the scars all her life. The 
girl who had started out so triumphantly from Biskra had 
become a woman through bitter knowledge and humiliat- 
ing experience. 

The pace was less killing now. Silver Star had settled 
down into the steady tireless gallop for which Ahmed 
Ben Hassan’s horses were famous. The little breeze had 
died awav as quickly as it had sprung up, and it was 
very hot. Diana looked about her with glowing eyes. 
Everything seemed different. From the first she had 
loved the desert, but back of everything and mingled with 
everything had been the feeling of fear, the continual 
restraint, the perpetual, subservience to the whims of her 
captor which had dominated everything. But now the 
whole aspect was changed. She loved the endless, un- 
dulating expanse stretching out before her, and as the 
grey topped each rise her interest grew keener. What 
might not be behind the next one ? For an hour or more 
the ground rose and fell in monotonous succession, and 
then the desert grew level again and quite suddenly she 
could see for miles. About two miles away a few palm 
trees showed clustering together, and Diana turned in 
their direction. They probably meant a well, and it was 
time she rested her horse and herself. It was the tiniest 
little oasis, and she drew rein and dismounted with fears 
for the well she had hoped to find. But there was one, 
very much silted up, and she set to work to clear it as 


122 


THE SHEIK 


well as she could to procure enough for herself and Silver 
Star, who was frantically trying to get to the water. It 
was exhausting work, but she managed to satisfy the grey, 
and, having unloosed his girths, she flung herself down 
on the ground in a small patch of shade. She lit a 
cigarette and lay flat on her back with her helmet over her 
eyes. 

For the first time since she had shaken otf Gaston she 
began to think seriously. What she had done was mad- 
ness. She had no food for herself or her horse, no 
water, and Heaven alone knew where the next well might 
be. She was alone in an uncivilised country among a 
savage people with no protection of any kind. She might 
fall in with friendly Arabs or she might not. She might 
come across an encampment, or she might wander for 
days and see no one, in which case death from hunger and 
thirst stared her in the face. What would she do when 
night came? With a sharp cry she leaped to her feet. 
What was she to do? She looked all around the little 
oasis with startled eyes, at the few palm trees and clumps 
of camel thorn, the broken well and the grey horse still 
snuffing about its mouth. She felt frightened for the first 
time; she was alone and about her was unending space, 
and she felt an atom, insignificant, the least of all things. 
She looked up into the clear sky and the blue vastness 
appalled her. 

Then the sudden panic to which she had given way 
subsided and her courage rose with a bound. It was only 
midday, anything might happen between then and night- 
fall. Of one thing only she was sure, she did not repent 
of what she had done. Behind her was Ahmed Ben 
Hassan and heior& her was possibly death, and death was 


THE SHEIK 


123 


preferable. She was quite calm again and lay down in the 
patch of shade once more with a resolute determination to 
mind. Time to think of them when they came. For the 
next hour or two she must rest and escape the intense 
heat. She rolled over on her face with her head in her 
arms and tried to sleep, but she was too excited, and soon 
gave up the attempt. And in any case, she argued with 
herself, she might sleep too long and lose precious time. 
She stretched luxuriously on the soft ground, thankful for 
the shade from the burning sun. The grey, tired of 
nosing round the well and blowing disdainfully at the 
thorn bushes, wandered over to her side and nozzled her 
gently. She caught at his velvety nose and drew it down 
beside her face. He was a very affectionate beast and 
gentler than most of the other horses, and he pressed 
close up to her, whinnying softly and looking at her with 
large expressive eyes. I haven’t anything to give you, 
poor old boy,” she said regretfully, kissing his muzzle and 
then pushing him away from her. She looked up again 
into the sky, a dark speck sailed overhead, the slow heavy 
flight of a vulture. In a few hours he might be picking 
her bones ! Merciful Heavens ! Why did such thoughts 
come into her head ? Had she nothing left of the courage 
that had once been second nature? If she let her nerves 
get the upper hand she might as well make no further 
effort, but lie down and die at once. With shaking fingers 
she took another cigarette; smoking would soothe her. 
Yet she hesitated before she lit it ; there were only a few 
left and her need might still be greater. But with a reck- 
less laugh she snapped the thin case to, and carefully 
scraped the evil-smelling sulphur match torn from a flat 
wood strip. She settled herself comfortably again full 


124 


THE SHElk 


length. All around her were the iiisumerable tiny noises 
of the desert, the hum of countless insect life, the rustling 
of the sand and the occasional dry crackle of the camel 
thorns made by the slipping of a twig or the displacing of 
a branch, sounds that would have been incomprehensible 
some weeks before. For a few minutes a sand spider 
attracted her attention and she watched his hurried pains- 
taking operations with wondering interest. Gradually a 
drowsy feeling stole over her and she realised suddenly 
that the air was impregnated with the scent of the tobacco 
that was always associated with the Sheik. It was one 
of his cigarettes that she was smoking. She had always 
been powerfully affected by the influence of smell, which 
induced recollection with her to an extraordinary degree, 
and now the uncommon penetrating odour of the Arab's 
cigarettes brought back all that she had been trying to 
put out of her mind. With a groan she flung it away and 
buried her face in her arms. The past rose up, and 
rushed, uncontrolled, through her brain. Incidents 
crowded into her recollection, memories of headlong gal- 
lops across the desert riding beside the man who, while 
she hated him, compelled her admiration, memories of 
him schooling the horses that he loved, sitting them like a 
centaur, memories of him amongst his men, memories 
more intimately connected with herself, of his varying 
moods, his swift changes from savage cruelty to amazing 
gentleness, from brutal intolerance to sudden considera- 
tion. There had even been times when he had interested 
her despite herself, and she had forgotten the relation- 
ship in which they stood towards each other in listening 
to his deep, slow voice, till a word or a gesture brought 
back the fact vividly. Memories of moments when she 


THE SHEIK 


125 


had struggled against his caresses, and he had mocked her 
helplessness with his great strength, when she had lain 
in his arms panting and exhausted, cold with fear and 
shrinking from his fierce kisses." She had feared him as 
she had never believed it possible to fear. His face rose 
before her clearly with all the expressions she had learned 
to know and dread. She tried to banish it, striving with 
all her might to put him from her mind, twisting this 
way and that, writhing on the soft sand as she struggled 
with the obsession that held her. She saw him all the 
time plainly, as though he were there before her. Would 
he pursue her always, phantom-like? Would the recol- 
lection of the handsome brown face haunt her for ever 
with its fierce eyes and cruel mouth? She buried her 
head deeper in her arms, but the vision persisted until 
with a scream she started up with heaving chest and wild 
eyes, standing rigid, staring towards the south with a 
desperate fixedness that made her eyeballs ache. The 
sense of his presence had been terribly real. She dropped 
on to the ground again with an hysterical laugh, and 
pushed the thick hair off her forehead wearily. Silver 
Star laying his muzzle suddenly on her shoulder made her 
start again violently with heavy, beating heart. A fright- 
ened look went across her face. Tm nervous,'* she 
muttered, looking round with a little shiver. I shall go 
mad if I stay here much longer." The little oasis that 
she had hailed so joyfully had become utterly repugnant 
and she was impatient to get away from it. She climbed 
eagerly into the saddle, and, with the rapid motion, she 
regained her calm and her spirits rose quickly. 

She shook off the feeling of apprehension that had 
taken hold of her and her nervous fears died away. A 


126 


THE §HEIE 

reckless feeling, like the excitement of the morning, came 
over her, and she urged the grey on with coaxing words, 
and responding to her voice, and hardly feeling her light 
weight, he raced on untiringly. All around was silence 
and a solitude that was stupendous. The vast emptiness 
was awe-inspiring. The afternoon was wearing away; 
already it was growing cooler. Diana had seen no sign 
of human life since she had left Gaston hours before 
and a little feeling of anxiety stirred faintly deep down in 
her heart. Traces of caravans she passed several times, 
and from the whitening bones of dead camels she turned 
her head in aversion — they were too intimately sug- 
gestive. She had seen a few jackals, and once a hyena 
lumbered away clumsily among some rocks as she passed. 
She had got away from the level desert, and was threading 
her way in and out of some low hills, which she felt were 
taking her out of her right course. She was steering by 
the setting sun, which had turned the sky into a glory of 
golden crimson, but the intricate turnings amongst the 
rocky hills were bewildering. The low, narrow defile 
seemed hemming her in, menacing her on all sides, and 
she was beginning to despair of finding her way out of 
the labyrinth, when, on rounding a particularly sharp 
turn, the rocks fell away suddenly and she rode out into 
open country. She breathed a sigh of relief and called 
out cheerily to the grey, but, as she looked ahead, her 
voice died away, and she reined him in sharply with a 
quickening heart-beat. Across the desert about a mile 
away she saw a party of Arabs coming towards her. 
There were about fifty of them, the leader riding a big, 
black horse some little distance in front of his followers. 
In the clear atmosphere they seemed nearer than they 


THE SHEIK 


127 

were. It was not what she wished. She had hoped for 
an encampment, where there would be women or a car- 
avan; of traders whose constant communication with the 
towni would make them realise the importance of guid- 
ing her to civilisation unharmed. This band of fighting 
men, for she could see their rifles clearly, and their close 
and orderly formation was anything but peaceful, filled 
her with the greatest misgivings. Only the worst might 
be expected from the wild, lawless tribesmen towards a 
woman alone amongst them. She had fled from one 
hideousness to another which would be ten times more 
horrible. Her face blanched and she set her teeth in 
desperation. The human beings she had prayed for were 
now a deadly menace, and she prayed as fervently that 
they might pass on and not notice her. Perhaps it was 
not too late, perhaps they had not not yet seen her and she 
might still slip away and hide in the twisting turnings of 
the defile. She backed Silver Star further into the 
shadow of the rock, but as she did so she saw that she 
had been seen. The leader turned in his saddle and 
raised his hand high above his head, and with a wild shout 
and a great cloud of dust and sand his men checked their 
horses, dragging them back on to their haunches, while he 
galloped towards her alone. And at the same moment an 
icy hand clutched at Diana’s heart and a moan burst from 
her lips. There was no mistaking him or the big black 
horse he rode. For a moment she reeled with a sudden 
faintness, and then with a tremendous effort she pulled 
herself together, dragging her horse’s head round and 
urged him back along the track which she had just left, 
and behind her raced Ahmed Ben Hassan, spurring the 
great, black stallion as he had never done beforeo With 


128 


THE SHEIK 


ashy face and wild, hunted eyes Diana crouched forward 
on the grty’s neck, saving him all she could and riding 
as she had never ridden in her life. Utterly reckless, she 
urged the horse to his utmost pace, regardless of the 
rough, dangerous track. Perhaps she could still shake 
off her pursuer among the tortuous paths of the hills. 
Nothing mattered but that. Better even an ugly toss 
and a broken neck than that he should take her again. 
Panic-stricken she wanted to shriek and clenched her teeth 
on her lips to keep back the scream that rose in her throat. 
She dared not look behind, but straight ahead before her, 
riding with all her skill, hauling the grey round perilous 
corners -and bending lower and lower in the saddle to 
aid him. In her terror she had forgotten what a little 
distance the hills stretched from where she had entered 
them, and blindly she turned into the track by which she 
had come, leaving the main hills on her right hand and 
emerging on to the open desert on the south side of the 
range. There was nothing now but the sheer speed of 
her horse to save her, and how long could she count on 
it? Then with a little glimmer of hope she remembered 
that the Sheik was riding The Hawk, own brother to the 
grey, and she knew that neither had ever outpaced the 
other. She had ridden hard all day, but it was probable 
that Ahmed Ben Hassan had ridden harder; he never 
spared his horses, and his weight was considerably greater 
than hers. Would it not be possible for Silver Star, 
carrying the lighter burden, to outdistance The Hawk? 
It was a chance. She would take it, but she would never 
give in. The perspiration was rolling down her face 
and her breath was coming laboriously. Suddenly, a few 
minutes after she had left the hills behind, the Sheik’s 


/ 


THE SHEIK 


129 

xl<:ep voice came clearly across the space between' 
them. 

‘H£ you do not stop I will shoot your horse. I give 
you one minute.’’ 

She swayed a little in the saddle, clutching the grey’s 
neck to steady herself and for a moment she closed her 
eyes, but she did not falter for an instant. She would not 
stop ; nothing on earth should make her stop now. Only, 
because she knew the man, she kicked her feet clear of 
the stirrups. He had said he would shoot and he would 
shoot, and if the grey shied or swerved a hair’s breadth 
she would probably receive the bullet that was meant for 
him. Better that! Yes, even better that ! 

Silver Star tore on headlong and the minute seemed a 
lifetirhe. Then before even she heard the report he 
bounded in the air and fell with a crash. Diana was 
flung far forward and landed on some soft sand. For 
a moment she was stunned by the fall, then she staggered 
dizzily to her feet and stumbled back to the prostrate 
horse. He was lashing out wildly with his heels, making 
desperate efforts to rise. And as she reached him the 
black horse dashed up alongside, stopping suddenly, 
and rearing straight up. The Sheik leaped to the ground 
and ran towards her. He caught her wrist and flung 
her out of his way, and she lay where she had fallen, 
every nerve in her body quivering. She was beaten and 
with the extinguishing of her last hope all her courage 
failed her. She gave way to sheer, overwhelming terror, 
utterly cowed. Every faculty was suspended, swallowed 
up in the one dominating force, the dread of his voice and 
the dread of the touch of his hands. She heaw a second 
report and knew that he had put Silver Star out of his 


130 


THE SHEIK 


misery, and then, in a few seconds, his voice beside her. 
She got up unsteadily, shrinking from him. 

Why are you here, and where is Gaston ? ” 

In a stifled voice she told him everything. What did 
it matter? If she tried to be silent he would force her 
to speak. 

He made no comment, and bringing The Hawk nearer 
tossed her up roughly into the saddle and swung up behind 
her, the black breaking at once into the usual headlong 
gallop. She made no kind of resistance, a complete 
apathy seemed to have come over her. She did not look 
at the body of Silver Star, she looked at nothing, clinging 
to the front of the saddle, and staring ahead of her un- 
seeingly. She had dropped her helmet when she fell and 
she had left it, thankful to be relieved of the pressure on 
her aching head. Her mental collapse had affected her 
physically, and it needed a real effort of will-power to 
enable her to sit up right. Very soon, they would join 
the horsemen, who were waiting for them, and for her 
pride’s sake she must concentrate all her energy to avoid 
betraying her weakness. 

Ahmed Ben Hassan did not go back through the defile, 
he turned into a little path that Diana had overlooked and 
which skirted the hills. In about half-an-hour the troop 
met them, riding slowly from the opposite direction. She 
did not raise her eyes as they approached, but she heard 
Yusef’s clear tenor voice calling out to the Sheik, who 
answered shortly as the men fell in behind him. Back 
over the ground that she had traversed so differently. 
She knew that it had been madness from the first. She 
should have known that it could never succeed, that she 
could never reach civilisation alone. She had been a fool 


THE SHEIK 


131 

ever ito imagine that she could win through. The chance 
that had thrown her again into the Sheikas power might 
just as easily have thrown her into the hands of any 
other Arab. Luck had helped Ahmed Ben Hassan even 
as she herself had unknowingly played into his hands 
when he had captured her first. Fate was with him. 
It was useless to try and struggle against him any more. 
Her brain was a confused medley of thoughts that she 
was too tired to unravel, strange, conflicting ideas chasing 
wildly through her mind. She did not understand them, 
she did not try. The effort of thinking made her head 
ache agonisingly. She was conscious of a great unrest, 
a dull aching in her heart and a terrible depression that 
was altogether apart from the fear she felt of the Sheik. 
She gave up trying to think ; she was concerned only with 
trying to keep her balance. 

She lifted her head for the first time and looked at the 
magnificent sky. The sun had almost set, going down 
in a ball of molten fire, and the heavens on either side 
were a riot of gold and crimson and palest green, shading 
off into vivid blue that grew blacker and blacker as the 
glory of the sunset died away. The scattered palm trees 
and the far-off hills stood out in strong relief. It was a 
country of marvellous beauty, and Diana’s heart gave a 
sudden throb as she realised that she was going back to 
it all. She was drooping wearily, unable to sit upright 
any longer, and once or twice she jolted heavily against 
the man who rode behind her. His nearness had ceased 
to revolt her; she thought of it with a dull feeling of 
wonder. She had even a sense of relief at the thought of 
the strength so close to her. Tier eyes rested on his 
hands, showing brown and muscular under the folds of 


132 


THE SHEIK 


his white robes. She knew the power of the long, lean 
fingers that could, when he liked, be gentle enough. Her 
eyes filled with sudden tears, but she blinked them back 
before they fell. She wanted desperately to cry. A 
wave of terrible loneliness went over her, a feeling of 
desolation, and a strange, incomprehensible yearning for 
what she did not know. As the sunset faded and it grew 
rapidly dusk a chill wind sprang up and she shivered 
from time to time, drooping more and more with fatigue, 
at times only half conscious. She had drifted into com- 
plete oblivion, when she was awakened with a jerk that 
threw her back violently against the Sheik, but she was 
too tired to more than barely understand that they had 
stopped for something, and that there were palm trees 
near her. She felt herself lifted down and a cloak 
wrapped round her, and then she remembered nothing 
more. She awoke slowly, shaking off a persistent drowsi- 
ness by degrees. She was still tired, but the desperate 
weariness was gone, and she was conscious of a feeling 
of well-being and security. The cool, night air blew in 
her face, dissipating her sleepiness. She became aware 
that night had fallen, and that they were still steadily 
galloping southward. In a few moments she was wide 
awake, and found that she was lying across the saddle 
in front of the Sheik, and that he was holding her in the 
crook of his arm. Her head was resting just over his 
heart, and she could feel the regular beat beneath her 
cheek. Wrapped warmly in the cloak and held securely 
by his strong arm at first she was content to give way 
only to the sensation of bodily rest. It was enough for 
the moment to lie with relaxed muscles, to have to make 
no effort of any kind, to feel the soothing rush of the 


THE SHEIK 


133 


wind against her face, and the swift, easy gallop of The 
Hawk as he carried them on through the night. Them! 
With a start of recollection she realised fully whose arm 
was round her, and whose breast her head was resting on. 
Her heart beat with sudden violence. What was the 
matter with her? Why did she not shrink from the 
pressure of his arm and the contact of his warm, strong 
body? What had happened to her? Quite suddenly she 
knew — knew that she loved him, that she had loved him 
for a long time, even when she thought she hated him and 
when she had fled from him. She knew now why his 
face had haunted her in the little oasis at midday — that 
it was love calling to her subconsciously. All the con- 
fusion of mind that had assailed her when they started on 
the homeward journey, the conflicting thoughts and con- 
trary emotions, were explained. But she knew herself 
at last and knew the love that filled her, an overwhelming, 
{Passionate love that almost frightened her with its im- 
mensity and with the sudden hold it had laid upon her. 
Love had come to her at last who had scorned it so 
fiercely. The men who had loved her had not had the 
power to touch her, she had given love to no one, she had 
thought that she could not love, that she was devoid of 
all natural afifection and that she would never know what 
love meant. But she knew now — a love of such complete 
surrender that she had never conceived. Her heart was 
given for all time to the fierce desert man who was so 
different from *11 other men whom she had met, a lawless 
savage who had taken her to satisfy a passing fancy and 
who had treated her with pierciless cruelty. He was a 
brute, but she loved him, loved him for his very brutality 
and superb animal strength. And he was an Arab 1 A 


134 


THE SHEIK 


man of different race and colour, a native ; Aubrey would 
indiscriminately class him as a ** damned nigger/’ She 
did not care. It made no difference. A year ago, a few 
weeks even, she would have shuddered with repulsion at 
the bare idea, the thought that a native could even touch 
her had been revolting, but all that was swept away and 
was nothing in the face of the love that filled her heart so 
completely. She did not care if he was an Arab, she did 
not care what he was, he was the man she loved. She 
was deliriously, insanely happy. She was lying against 
his heart, and the clasp of his arm was joy unspeakable. 
She was utterly content; for the moment all life nar- 
rowed down to the immediate surroundings, and she 
wished childishly that they could ride so for ever through 
eternity. The night was brilliant. The stars blazed 
against the inky blackness of the sky, and the light of the 
full moon was startlingly clear and white. The discord- 
ant yelling of a pack of hunting jackals came from a little 
distance, breaking the perfect stillness. The men were 
riding in unusual silence, though a low exclamation or the 
subdued jingle of accoutrements was heard occasionally, 
once some one fired at a night creature that bounded 
out from almost under his horse’s feet. But the Sheik 
flung a word of savage command over his shoulder and 
there were no more shots. Diana stirred slightly, moving 
her head so that she could see his face showing clearly 
in the bright moonlight, which threw some features into 
high relief and left the rest in dark shadow. She looked 
at him with quickening breath. He was peering intently 
ahead, his eyes flashing in the cold light, his brows drawn 
together in the characteristic heavy scowl, and the firm 


THE SHEIK 


135 

chin, so near her face, was pushed out more doggedly 
than usual. 

He felt her move and glanced down. For a moment 
she looked straight into his eyes, and then with a low, 
inarticulate murmur she hid her face against him. He 
did not speak, but he shifted her weight a little, drawing 
her closer into the curve of his arm. 

It was very late when they reached the camp. Lights 
flashed up in the big tent and on all sides, and they were 
surrounded by a crowd of excited tribesmen and servants. 
In spite of the hard day’s work The Hawk started plung- 
ing and rearing, his invariable habit on stopping, which 
nothing could break, and at a word from the Sheik two 
men leaped to his head while he transferred Diana to 
Yusef’s outstretched arms. She was stiff and giddy, and 
the young man helped her to the door of the tent, and 
then vanished again into the throng of men and horses. 

Diana sank wearily on to the divan and covered her 
face with her hands. She was trembling with fatigue 
and apprehension. Y^hat would he do to her? She 
asked herself the question over and over again, with shak- 
ing, soundless lips, praying for courage, nerving herself 
to. meet him. At last sb ^ heard his voice and, looking up, 
saw him standing in the doorway. His back was turned, 
and he was giving orders to a number of men who stood 
near him, for she could hear their several voices; and 
shortly afterwards half-a-dozen small bands of men rode 
quickly away in different directions. For a few moments 
he stood talking to Yusef and then came in. At the sight 
of him Diana shrank back among the soft cushions, but 
he took no notice of her, and, lighting a cigarette, began 


THE SHEIE 


136 

walking up and down the tent. She dared not speak to 
him, the expression on his face was terrible. 

Two soft-footed Arab servants brought a hastily pre- 
pared supper. It was a ghastly meal. He never spoke or 
showed in any way that he was conscious of her presence. 
She had had nothing to eat all day, but the food nearly 
choked her and she could hardly swallow it, but she forced 
herself to eat a little. It seemed interminable until thd 
servants finally withdrew, after bringing two little gold- 
cased cups of native coffee. She gulped it down with 
difficulty. The Sheik had resumed his restless pacing, 
smoking cigarette after cigarette in endless succession. 
The monotonous tramp to and fro worked on Diana’s 
nerves until she winced each time he passed her, and, 
huddled on the divan, she watched him continually, 
fascinated, fearful. 

He never looked at her. From time to time he glanced 
at the watch on his wrist and each time his. face grew 
blacker. If he would only speak ! His silence was worse 
than anything he could say. Whac was he going to do? 
He was capable of doing anythh/g. The suspense was 
torture. Her hands grew clamny and she wrenched at 
the soft open collar of her riding-shirt with a feeling of 
suffocation. 

Twice Yusef came to report, and the second time the 
Sheik came back slowly from the door where he had been 
speaking to him and stopped in front of Diana, looking at 
her strangely. 

She flung out her hands instinctively, shrinking further 
back among the cushions, her eyes wavering under his. 

What are you going to do to me ? ” she whispered in- 
voluntarily, with dry lips. 


THE SHEIK 


137 

He looked at her without answering for a while, as if 
to prolong the torture she was enduring, and a cruel look 
crept into his eyes. “ That depends on what happens to 
Gaston,” he said at length slowly. 

“ Gaston ? ” she repeated stupidly. She had forgotten 
the valet, in all that had occurred since the morning she 
had forgotten his very existence. 

‘‘Yes — Gaston,” he said sternly. “You do not seem 
to have thought of what might happen to him.” 

She sat up slowly, a puzzled look coming into her 
face. “ What could happen to him ? ” she asked won- 
deringly. 

He dragged back the fkip of the tent and pointed out 
into the darkness. “ Over there in the south-west, there 
is an old Sheik whose name is Ibraheim Omair. His 
tribe arid mine have been at feud for generations. Lately 
I have learned that he has been venturing nearer than he 
has ever before dared. He hates me. To capture my 
personal servant would be more luck than he could have 
hoped for.” 

He dropped the flap and began walking up and down 
again. There was a sinister tone in his voice that made 
Diana suddenly comprehend the little Frenchman’s peril. 
Ahmed Ben Hassan w^as not the man to be easily alarmed 
on any one’s behalf. That he was anxious about Gaston 
was apparent, and with her knowledge of him she under- 
stood his anxiety argued a very real danger. She had 
heard tales before she left Biskra, and since then she had 
been living in an Arab camp, and she knew something of 
the fiendish cruelty and callous indifference to suffering 
of the Arabs. Ghastly mental pictures with appalling de- 
tails crowded now into her mind. She shuddered. 



THE SHEIK 


138 

^ What would they do to him ? ” she asked shakily, with 
a look of horror. 

The Sheik paused beside her. He looked at her curi- 
ously and the cruelty deepened in his eyes. Shall I tell 
you what they would do to him ? ” he said meaningly, with 
a terrible smile. 

She gave a cry and flung her arms over her head, 
hiding her face. Oh, do not ! Do not ! ” she wailed. 

He jerked the ash from his cigarette. Bah ! ” he said 
contemptuously. You are squeamish.’’ 

She felt sick with the realisation of what could result 
to Gaston from her action. She had had no personal 
feeling with regard to him. On the contrary, she liked 
him — she had not thought of him, the man, when she 
had stampeded his horse and left him on foot so far from 
camp. She had looked upon him only as a jailer, his 
master’s deputy. 

The near presence of this hostile Sheik explained many 
things she had not understood: Gaston’s evident desire 
during their ride not to go beyond a certain distance, the 
special activity that had prevailed of late amongst the 
Sheik’s immediate followers, and the speed and silence 
that had been maintained during the headlong gallop 
across the desert that evening. She had known all along 
the Arab’s obvious affection for his French servant, and 
it was confirmed now by the anxiety that he did not take 
the trouble to conceal — so unlike his usual complete in- 
difference to suffering or danger. 

She looked at him thoughtfully. There were still 
depths that she had not fathomed in his strange character. 
Would she ever arrive at even a distant understanding 
of his complex nature? There was a misty yearning in 


THE SHEIK 


139 

her eyes as they followed his tall figure up and down the 
tent. His feet made no sound on the thick rugs, and he 
moved with the long, graceful stride that always reminded 
her of the walk of a wild animal. Her new-found love 
longed for expression as she watched him. If she could 
only tell him ! If she had only the right to go to him and 
in his arms to kiss away the cruel lines from his mouth ! 
But she had not. She must wait until she was called, 
until he should choose to notice the woman whom he had 
taken for his pleasure, until the baser part of him had 
need of her again. He was an Arab, and to him a 
woman was a slave, and as a slave she must give every- 
thing and ask for nothing. 

And when he did turn to her again the joy she would 
feel in his embrace would be an agony for the love that 
was not there. His careless kisses would scorch her and 
the strength of his arms would be a mockery. But would 
he ever turn to her again? If anything happened to 
Gaston — if what he had suggested became a fact and 
the servant fell a victim to the blood feud between the 
two tribes ? She knew he would be terribly avenged, and 
what would her part be? She wondered dully if he 
would kill her, and how. If the long, brown fingers with 
their steely strength would choke the life out of her. Her 
hands went up to her throat mechanically. He stopped 
near her to light a fresh cigarette, and she was trying to 
summon up courage to speak to him of Gaston when the 
covering of the doorway was flung open and Gaston him- 
self stood in the entrance. 

“ Monseigneur — he stammered, and with his two 
hands outstretched, palm uppermost, he made an appealing 
gesture. 


140 


THE SHEIK 


The Sheikas hand shot out and gripped the man’s shoul- 
der. “Gaston! Enfin, mon ami!” he said slowly, but 
there was a ring in his low voice that Diana had never 
heard before. 

For a moment the two men stared at each other, and 
then Ahmed Ben Hassan gave a little laugh of great relief. 
“ Praise be to Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate,” he 
murmured. 

“To his name praise!” rejoined Gaston softly, then 
his eyes roved around the tent towards Diana, and there 
.was no resentment in them, but only anxiety.. 

“ Madame is — ” he hesitated, but the Sheik cut him 
short. 

“ Madame is quite safe,” he said dryly, and pushed him 
gently towards the door with a few words in rapid Arabic. 
He stood some time after Gaston had gone to his own 
quarters looking out into the night, and when he came in, 
lingered unusually over closing the flap. Diana stood 
hesitating. She was worn out and her long riding-boots 
felt like lead. She was afraid to go and afraid to stay. 
He seemed purposely ignoring her. The relief of Gaston’s 
return was enormous, but she had still to reckon with him 
for her attempted flight. That he said no word about it 
at the moment meant nothing; she knew him too well 
for that. And there was Silver Star, the finest of all his 
magnificent horses — she had yet to pay for his death. 
The strain that she had gone through since the morning 
was tremendous, she could not bear much more. His 
silence aggravated her breaking nerves until she felt that 
her nerves would go. He had moved over to the writing- 
table and was tearing the wrapping off a box of cart- 
ridges preparatory to refilling the magazine of his revolver. 


THE SHEIK 


141 

The little operation seemed to take centuries. She started 
at each separate click. She gripped her hands and passed 
her tongue over her dry lips. If he wfeuld not speak she 
must, she could endure it no longer. 

I am sorry about Silver Star,” she faltered, and even 
to herself her voice sounded hoarse and strange. He 
did not answer, but only shrugged his shoulders as he 
dropped the last cartridge into its place. 

The gesture and his uncompromising attitude exasper- 
ated her. ‘‘You had better have shot me,” she said bit- 
terly. 

“ Perhaps. You would have been easier replaced. 
There are plenty of women, but Silver Star was almost 
unique,” he retorted quickly, and she winced at the cold 
brutality of his tone. 

A little sad smile curved her lips. “ Yet you shot your 
horse to get me back,” she said in a barely audible voice. 

He flung round with an oath. “ You little fool ! Do 
you know so little of me yet? Do you think that I will 
let anything stand between me and what I want ? Do you 
think that by running away from me you will make me 
want you less? By Allah! I would have found you if 
you had got as far as France. What I have I keep, until 
I tire of it — and I have not tired of you yet.” He 
jerked her to him, staring down at her passionately, and 
for a moment his face was the face of a devil. “ How 
shall I punish you ? ” Fie felt the shudder he expected go 
through her and laughed as she shrank in his arms and 
hid her face. He forced her head up with merciless fin- 
gers, “What do you hate most? — my kisses?” and 
with another mocking laugh he crushed his mouth to hers 
in a long sufifocating embrace. 


142 


THE SHEIK 


Then he let her go suddenly, and, blind and dizzy, she 
reeled from him and staggered. He caught her as she 
swayed and swept her into his arms. Her head fell back 
against his shoulder and his face changed at the sight of 
her quivering features. He carried her into the adjoin- 
ing room and laid her on the couch, his hands lingering 
as he drew them from her. For a moment he stood look- 
ing down with smouldering eyes on the slight, boyish 
figure lying on the bed, the ferocity dying out of his face. 
" Take care you do not wake the devil in me again, ma 
belle” he said sombrely. 

Alone Diana turned her face into the pillows with a 
moan of anguish. Back in the desert a few hours ago, 
under the shining stars, when the truth had first come to 
her, she had thought that she was happy, but she knew 
now that without his love she would never be happy. She 
had tasted the bitterness of his loveless kisses and she 
knew that a worse bitterness was to come, and she 
writhed at the thought of what her life with him would be. 

I love him ! I love him ! And I want his love more 
than anything in Heaven and earth.*' 


/ 


CHAPTER VI 


Diana was sitting on the divan in the living-room ot the 
tent lingering over her petit dejeuner, a cup of coffee 
poised in one hand and her bright head bent over a mag- 
azine on her knee. It was a French periodical of fairly 
recent date, left a few days before by a Dutchman who 
was touring through the desert, and who had asked a 
night’s hospitality. Diana had not seen him, and it was 
not until the traveller had been served with dinner in his 
own tent that the Sheik had sent the usual flowery mes- 
sage conveying what, though wrapped in honeyed words, 
amounted practically to a command that he should come 
to drink coffee and let himself be seen. Only native 
servants had been in attendance, and it was an Arab un- 
tinged by any Western influence who had received him, 
talking only Arabic, which the Dutchman spoke fluently, 
and placing at his disposal himself, his servants and all his 
belongings with the perfunctory Oriental insincerity 
which the traveller knew meant nothing and accepted at its 
own value, returning to the usual set phrases the custom- 
ary answers that were expected of him. Once or twice 
as they talked a woman’s subdued voice had reached the 
Dutchman’s ears from behind the thick curtains, but he 
knew too much to let any expression betray him, and he 
smiled grimly to himself at the thought of the change that 
an indiscreet question would bring to the stern face of his 
143 


THE SHEIK 


144 

grave and impassive host. He was an elderly man with 
a tender heart, and he wondered speculatively what the 
girl in the next room would have to pay for her own in- 
discretion in allowing her voice to be heard. He left the 
next morning early without seeing the Sheik again, es- 
corted for some little distance by Yusef and a few men. 

Diana read eagerly. Anything fresh to read was pre- 
cious. She looked like a slender boy in the soft riding- 
shirt and smart-cut breeches, one slim foot in a long brown 
boot drawn up under her, and the other swinging idly 
against the side of the divan. She finished her coffee 
hastily, and, lighting a cigarette, leaned back with a sigh 
of content over the magazine. 

Two months had slipped away since her mad flight, 
since her dash for freedom that had ended in tragedy for 
the beautiful Silver Star and so unexpectedly for herself. 
Weeks of vivid happiness that had been mixed with poign- 
ant suffering, for the perfect joy of being .with him 
was marred by the passionate longing for his love. 
Even her surroundings had taken on a new aspect, her 
happiness coloured everything. The 'Eastern luxury of 
the tent and its appointments no longer seemed theatri- 
cal, but the natural setting of the magnificent specimen 
of manhood who surrounded himself by all the display 
dear to the heart of the native. How much was for his 
own pleasure and how much was for the sake of his 
followers she had never been able to determine. The 
beauties and attractions of the desert had multiplied a 
hundred times. The wild tribesmen, with their prim- 
itive ways and savagery, had ceased to disgust her, and 
the free life with its constant exercise and simple routine 
was becoming indefinitely dear to her. The camp had 


THE SHEIK 


145 

been moved several times — always towards the south — 
and each change had been a source of greater interest. 

And since the night that he had carried her back in 
triumph he had been kind to her — kind beyond anything 
that she had expected. He had never made any reference 
to her fight or to the death of the horse that he had 
valued so highly; in that he had been generous. The 
episode over, he wished no further allusion to it. But 
there was nothing beyond kindness. The passion that 
smouldered in his dark eyes often was not the love she 
craved, it was only the desire that her uncommon type 
and her utter dissimilarity from all the other women 
who had passed through his hands had awakened in him. 
The perpetual remembrance of those other woman 
brought her a constant burning shame that grew stronger 
every day, a shame that was only less strong than her 
ardent love, and a wild jealousy that tortured her with 
doubts and fears, an ever-present demon of suggestion 
reminding her of the past when it was not she who lay 
in his arms, nor her lips that received his kisses. The 
knov/ledge that the embraces she panted for had been 
shared by les autres was an open wound that would not 
heal. She tried to shut her mind to the past. She 
knew that she was a fool to expect the abstinence of a 
monk in the strong, virile desert man. And she was 
afraid for the future. She wanted him for herself alone, 
wanted his undivided love, and that he was an Arab with 
Oriental instincts filled her with continual dread, dread of 
the real future about which she never dared to think, 
dread of the passing of his transient desire. She loved 
him so passionately, so completely, that beyond him was 
nothing. He was all the world. She gave herself to 


THE SHEIK 


146 

him gladly, triumphantly, as she would give her life for 
him if need be. But she had schooled herself to hide 
her love, to yield apathetically to his caresses, and to 
conceal the longing that possessed her. She was afraid 
that the knowledge that she loved him would bring about 
the disaster she dreaded. The words that he had once 
used remained continually in her mind: ‘Hf you loved me 
you would bore me, and I should have to let you go.” 
And she hid her love closely in her heart. It was diffi- 
cult, and it hurt her to hide it from him and to assume 
indifference. It was difficult to remember that she must 
make a show of reluctance when she was longing to give 
unreservedly. She dropped the end of the cigarette hiss- 
ing into the dregs of the coffee and turned a page, and, 
as she did so, she looked up suddenly, the magazine drop- 
ping unheeded on the floor. Close outside the tent the 
same low, vibrating baritone was singing the Kashmiri 
love song that she had heard last the night before she left 
Biskra. She sat tense, her eyes growing puzzled. 

Pale hands I loved beside the Shalunar, Where are 
you now? Who lies beneath your spell? ” 

The voice came nearer and he swept in, still singing, 
and came to her. ''Pale hands, pink tipped,'' he sang, 
stopping in front of her and catching her fingers in his 
up to his lips, but she tore them away before he kissed 
them. 

You do know English ? ” she cried sharply, her eyes 
searching his. 

He flung himself on the divan beside her with a laugh. 

Because I sing an English song ? ” he replied in French. 
"La! la! I heard a Spanish boy singing in ‘Carmen’ 
once in Paris who did not know a word of French beside 


THE SHEIK 


147 

the score. He learned it parrot-like, as I learn your 
English songs,'' he added, smiling. 

She watched him light a cigarette, and her forehead 
wrinkled thoughtfully. “ It was you who sang outside 
the hotel in Biskra that night?" she asked at last, more 
statement than question. 

“ One is mad sometimes, especially when the moon is 
high," he replied teasingly. 

“ And was it you who came into my bedroom and put 
the blank cartridges in my revolver? " 

His arm stole round her, drawing her to him, and he 
lifted her head up so that he could look into her eyes. 

Do you think that — I would have allowed anybody else 
to go to your room at night ? — I, an Arab, when I meant 
you for myself ? " 

*‘You were so sure?” 

He laughed softly, as if the suggestion that any plaA 
of his could be liable to miscarriage amused him infinitely, 
and the smouldering passion flamed up in his dark eyes. 
He strained her to him hungrily, as if her slim body lying 
against his had awakened the sleeping fires within him. 
She struggled against the pressure of his arm, averting 
her head. 

Always cold ? " he chided. Kiss me, little piece of 
ice." 

She longed to, and it almost broke her heart to perse- 
vere in her efforts to repulse him. A wild desire seized 
her to tell him that she loved him, to make an end once 
and for all of the misery of doubt and fear that was 
sapping her strength from her, and abide by the issue. 
But the spark of hope that lived in her heart gave her 
courage, and she fought down the burning words that 


THE SHEIK 


148 

sought utterance, forcing indifference into her eyes and 
a mutinous pout to her lips. 

His black brows drew together slowly. “ Still dis- 
obedient? You said you would obey me. I loathe the 
English, but I thought their word — ” 

She interrupted him with a quick gesture, and, turning 
her face to his, for the first time kissed him voluntarily, 
brushing his tanned cheek with swift, cold lips. 

He laughed disdainfully. ** Bon Dieit! Has the hot 
sun of the desert taught you no better than that? Have 
you learned so little from me? Has the vile climate of 
your detestable country frozen you so thoroughly that 
nothing can melt you ? Or is there some man in England 
who has the power to turn you from a statue to a 
woman? ’’ he added, with an angry snarl. 

She clenched her hands with the pain of his words. 
** There is no one,” she muttered, ‘‘ but I — I don’t feel 
like that.” 

“ You had better learn,” he said thickly. “ I am tired 
of holding an icicle in my arms,” and sweeping her com- 
pletely into his masterful grasp he covered her face with 
fierce, burning kisses. 

And for the first time she surrendered to him wholly, 
clinging to him passionately, and giving him kiss for kiss 
with an absolute abandon of all resistance. At last he 
let her go, panting and breathless, and leaped up, drawing 
his hand across his eyes. 

‘‘ You go to my head, Diane,” he said, with a laugh 
that was half anger, and shrugging his shoulders moved 
across the tent to the chest where the spare arms were 
kept, and unlocking it took out a revolver and began to 
clean it. 


THE SHEIK 


149 


She looked at him bewildered. What had he meant? 
How could she reconcile what he said with the advice that 
he had given her before? Was he totally inconsistent? 
Did he, after all, want the satisfaction of knowing that 
he had made her love him — of flattering himself on the 
power he exercised over her? Did he care that he was 
able to torture her heart with a refinement of cruelty 
that took all and gave nothing? Did he wish her to 
crawl abjectly to his feet to give him the pleasure of 
spurning her contemptuously, or was it only that he 
wanted her senses merely to respond to his ardent. East- 
ern temperament? Her face grew hot and shamed. She 
knew the fiery nature that was hidden under his im- 
passive exterior and knew the control he exercised over 
himself, knew, too, that the strain he put upon himself 
was liable to be broken with unexpected suddenness. It 
was on easy thing to rule his wild followers, and she 
guessed that the relaxation that he looked for in the 
privacy of his own tent meant more to him than he would 
ever have admitted, than perhaps he even know. The 
hatred and defiance with which she had repelled him had 
provoked and amused him, but it had also at times angered 
him. 

He was very human, and there must have been 
moments when he wanted a willing mate rather than a 
rebellious prisoner. She gave a quick sigh as she looked 
at him. He was so strong, so vigorous, so intensely alive. 
It was going to be very difficult to anticipate his moods 
and be subservient to his temper. She sighed again 
wearily. If she could but make him and keep him happy. 
She ruffled her loose curls, tugging them with a puzzled 
frown, a trick that was a survival of her nursery days, 


THE SHEIK 


ISO 

when she clutched frantically at her red-gold mop to help 
her settle any childish difficulty. 

She knelt up suddenly on the cushions of the divan. 
“Why do you hate the English so bitterly, Monseig- 
neur?” She had dropped almost unconsciously into Gas- 
ton’s mode of address for some time ; it was often 
awkward to give him no name, and she shrank from 
using his own; and the title fitted him. 

He looked up from his work, and, gathering the mate- 
rials together, brought them over to the divan. “ Light 
me a cigarette, cherie, my hands are busy,” he replied 
irrelevantly. 

She complied with a little laugh. “ You haven’t an- 
swered my question.” 

He polished the gleaming little weapon in his hand for 
some time without speaking. Ma petite Diane, your 
lips are of an adorable redness and your voice is music 
in my ears, but — I detest questions. They bore me to 
a point of exasperation,” he said at last lightly, and 
started humming the Kashmiri song again. 

She knew him well enough to know that all questions 
did not bore him, but that she must have touched some 
point connected with the past of which she was ignorant 
that affected him, and to prove her knowledge she asked 
another question. “ Why do you sing? You have never 
sung before.” 

He looked at her with a smile of amusement at her 
pertinacity. “ Inquisitive one 1 I sing because I am glad. 
Because my friend is coming.” 

“Your friend?” 

“Yes, by Allah! The best friend a man ever had. 
Raoul de Saint Hubert.” 


THE SHEIK 


151 

She flashed a look at the bookcase with a jerk of her 
head, and he nodded. “ Coming here? ’’ she queried, and 
the dismay she felt sounded in her voice. 

He frowned in quick annoyance at her tone. “Why 
not ? ’’ he said haughtily. 

“ No reason,’’ she murmured, sinking down among the 
cushions again and picking up the magazine from the 
floor. The advent of a stranger — a European — was a 
shock, but she felt that the Sheik’s eyes were on her and 
she determined to show no feeling in his presence. 
“ What time will you be ready to ride ? ” she asked in- 
differently, with a simulated yawn, flirting over the pages. 

“ I can’t ride with you to-day. I am going to meet 
Saint Hubert. His courier only came an hour ago. It 
is two years since I have seen him.” 

Diana slipped off the couch and went to the open door- 
way. A detachment of men were already waiting for 
him, and, close by the tent, Shaitan of the ugly temper 
was biting and fidgeting in the hands of the grooms. She 
scowled at the beautiful, wicked creature’s flat-laid ears 
and rolling eyes. She would have backed him fearlessly 
herself if the Sheik had let her, but she was nervous for 
him every time he rode the vicious beast. No one but the 
Sheik could manage him, and though she knew that he 
had perfect mastery over the horse, she never lost the 
feeling of nervousness, a sensation the old Diana had 
never, never experienced, and she wished to-day that it 
had been any other horse but Shaitan waiting for him. 

She went back to him slowly. “ It makes my head ache 
to stay in all day. May Gaston not ride with me?” she 
asked diffidently, her eyes anywhere but on his face. He 
had not allowed her to ride with any one except himself 


THE SHEIK 


153 

since her attempted escape, and to her tentative su^es-* 
tions that the rides with the valet might be resumed he had 
given a prompt refusal. He hesitated now, and she was 
afraid he was going to refuse again, and she looked up 
wistfully. Please, Monseigneur,” she whispered 
humbly. 

He looked at her for a moment with his chin squarer 
than usual. Are you going to run away again?” he 
asked bluntly. 

Her eyes filled slowly with tears, and she turned her 
head away to hide them. “No, I am not going to run 
away again,” she said very low. 

“ Very well, I will tell him. He will be delighted, le 
hon Gaston. He is your very willing slave in spite of 
the trick you played him. He has a beautiful nature, le 
paiivre diable. He is not an Arab, eh, little Diane ? ” 
The mocking smile was back in his eyes as he turned her 
face up to his in the usual peremptory way. Then he 
held out the revolver he had been cleaning with sudden 
seriousness. “ I want you to carry this always now when 
you ride. Ibraheim Omair is still in the neighbourhood.” 

She looked at it blankly. 

“ But ” she stamm.ered. 

He knew what was in her mind, and he stooped and 
kissed her lightly. “ I trust you,” he said quietly, and 
went out. 

She followed him to the door, the revolver dangling 
from her hand, and watched him mount and ride away. 
His horsemanship was superb and her eyes glowed as 
they followed him. She went back into the tent and 
slipped the revolver into the holster he had left lying on 
a stool, and, tucking it and Saint Hubert's novel, which 


THE ^HEIK 153 

she took from the bookcase, i nder her arm, went into the 
bed-room and, calling to Zilah to pull off her riding-boots, 
threw herself on the bed to laze away the morning, and 
to try and picture the author from the book he had 
written. 

She hated him in advance; she was jealous of him and 
of his coming. The Sheik’s sudden new tenderness had 
given rise to a hope she hardly dared allow herself to 
dwell upon. Might not the power that she had exercised 
over other men be still extended to him in spite of the 
months that he had been indifferent to anything except 
the mere physical attraction she had for him? Was it 
not possible that out of that attraction might develop 
something finer and better than the primitive desire she 
had aroused? Oriental though he was, might he not be 
capable of a deep and lasting affection? He might have 
loved her if no outside influence had come to interrupt 
the routine that had become so intimately a part of his 
life. Those other episodes to which he had referred so 
lightly had been a matter of days or weeks, not months, 
as in her case. He might have cared but for the coming 
of this Frenchman. She hurled Saint Hubert’s book 
across the room in a fit of girlish rage and buried her 
head in her arms. He would be odious — a smirking, 
conceited egotist! She had met several French writers 
and she visualised him contemptuously. His books were 
undoubtedly clever. So much the worse; he would be 
correspondingly inflated. His novel revealed a passion- 
ate, emotional temperament that promised to complicate 
the situation if he should be pleased to cast an eye of 
favour on her. She writhed at the very thought. And 
that he was to see her was evident; the Sheik had left 


THE SHEIK 


154 

no orders to the contrary. It was not to be the case of the 
Dutch traveller, when the fact that she belonged to an 
Arab had been brought home to her effectually by Ahmed 
Ben Hassan’s peremptory commands, and she had ex- 
perienced for the first time the sensation of a woman kept 
in seclusion. 

The emotions of the morning and the disappointment of 
the intended ride, together with the dismay produced by 
the unexpected visitor, all combined to agitate her power- 
fully, and she worked herself up into a fever of self- 
torture and unhappiness. She ended by falling asleep and 
slept heavily for some hours. Zilah waked her with a 
shy hand on her arm and a soft announcement of lunch, 
and Diana sat up, rubbing her eyes, flushed and drowsy. 
She stared uncomprehendingly for a moment at the Arab 
girl, and then waved her away imperiously and buried her 
head in the pillows again. Lunch, when her heart was 
breaking ! 

Mindful of her lord’s deputy, who was waiting in the 
next room, and whom she regarded with awe, Zilah held 
her ground with a timid insistence until Diana started up 
wrathfully and bade her go in tones that she had never 
used before to the little waiting-girl. Zilah fled precipi- 
tately, and, thoroughly awakened, Diana swung her heels 
to the ground and with her elbows on her knees rested her 
hot head in her hands. She felt giddy, her head ached 
and her mouth was parched and dry. She got up lan- 
guidly, and going to the table studied her face in the 
mirror intently. She frowned at the reflection. She had 
never been proud of her own beauty ; she had lived with 
it always and it had seemed to her a thing of no conse- 


THE SHEIK 


IS5 

quence, and now that it had failed to arouse the love she 
wanted in Ahmed Ben Hassan she almost hated it. 

“ Are you going to have fever or are you merely bad- 
tempered ? ” she asked out loud, and the sound of her own 
voice made her laugh in spite of her heavy heart. She 
went into the bathroom and soused her head in cold water. 
When she came back a frightened Zilah was putting a 
small tray on the brass-topped table by the bed. 

M^seiur Gaston,” she stammered, almost crying. 

Diana looked at the tray, arranged with all the dainty 
neatness dear to the valet’s heart, and then at the travel- 
ling clock on the table beside it, and realised that it was 
an hour past her usual lunch-time and that she was ex- 
tremely hungry, after all. A little piece of paper on the 
tray caught her eye, and, picking it up, she read in Gas- 
ton’s clear though minute handwriting, “At what hour 
does Madame desire to ride ? ” 

The servant clearly had no intention of giving up 
the programme for the afternoon without a struggle. She 
smiled as she added a figure to the end of the note, 
and went to the curtains that divided the rooms. 
“Gaston!” 

“ Madame ! ” 

She passed the paper silently through the curtains and 
went back to her lunch. When she sent Zilah away with 
the empty tray she rescued the Vicomte de Saint Hubert’s 
book from the floor where she had thrown.it and tried to 
read it dispassionately. She turned to the title-page and 
studied the pencilled scrawl “ Souvenir de Raoul ” closely. 
It did not look like the handwriting of a small-minded 
man, but handwriting was nothing to go by, she argued 


THE SHEIK 


156 

obstinately. Aubrey, who was the essence of selfishness, 
wrote beautifully, and had once been told by an expert 
that his writing denoted a generous love of his fellow- 
men, which deduction had aroused no enthusiasm in the 
baronet, and had given his sister over to helpless mirth. 
She turned the pages, dipping here and there, finally for- 
getting the author altogether in the book. It was a won- 
derful story of a man’s love and faithfulness, and Diana 
pushed it aside at last with a very bitter sigh. Thingj 
happened so in books. In real life they happened very 
differently. She looked round the room with pain-filled 
eyes, at the medley of her own and the Sheik’s belongings, 
her ivory toilet appointments jostling indiscriminately 
among his brushes and his razors on the dressing-table, 
and then at the pillow beside her where his head rested 
every night. She stooped and kissed it with a little quiv- 
ering breath. ‘‘ Ahmed. Oh, Monseigneur ! ” she mur- 
mured longingly. Then, with an impatient jerk of the 
head, she sprang up and dragged on her boots. She 
pulled a soft felt hat down over her eyes and picked up the 
revolver the Sheik had given her. She paused a moment, 
looking at it with an odd smile before buckling it round 
her slim waist. Gaston’s face lit up with genuine pleas- 
ure when she came out to the horses. She had felt a 
momentary embarrassment before she left the tent, think- 
ing of the last time he had ridden with her, but she had 
known from the moment he came back that night that he 
bore no malice, and the look on his face and his stam- 
mered words to the Sheik had indicated that the fear he 
felt for her was not for what might have happened in the 
desert, but for what might yet happen to her at the hands 
of his master and hers. 


THE SHEIK 


157 

The horse that she rode always now was pure white, 
not so fast as Silver Star and very tricky, called The 
Dancer, from a nervous habit of dancing on his hind-legs 
at starting and stopping, like a circus-horse. He was 
difficult to mount, and edged away shyly as Diana tried 
to get her foot into the stirrup. But she swung up at 
last, and by the time The Dancer had finished his display 
of haute ecole Gaston was mounted. “ After riding The 
Dancer I feel confident to enter for the Cone ours Hip pi- 
que,'" she laughed over her shoulder, and touched the horse 
with her heel. 

She wanted exercise primarily, hard physical exercise 
that would tire her out and keep her mind occupied and 
prevent her from thinking, and the horse she rode sup- 
plied both needs. He required watching all the time. 
She let him out to his full pace for his own sake and 
hers, and the air and the movement banished her head- 
ache, and a kind of exhilaration came over her, making 
her almost happy. After a while she reined in her horse 
and waved to Gaston to come alongside. “ Tell me of 
this Vicomte de Saint Hubert who is coming. You 
know him, I suppose, as you have been so long with 
Monseigneur ? ” 

Gaston smiled. I knew him before Monseignenr did. 
I was born on the estate of Monsieur le Comte de Saint 
Hubert, the father of Monsieur le Vicomte. I and my 
twin brother Henri. We both went into Monsieur’s le 
Comte’s training stables, and then after our time in the 
Cavalry Henri became valet to Monsieur le Vicomte, and 
I came to Monseigneur.” 

Diana took off her hat and rubbed her forehead thought- 
fully. Fifteen years ago Ahmed must have been about 


THE SHEIK 


158 

twenty. Why should an Arab chief of that age, or any 
age, indulge in such an anomaly as a French valet, or for 
that matter why should a French valet attach himself to 
an Arab Sheik and exile himself in the wilds of the 
desert? Whichever way she turned, the mystery of the 
man she loved seemed to crop up. She started arguing 
with herself in a circle — why should the Sheik have a 
European servant or why should he not, until she gave it 
up in hopeless confusion. 

She turned to Gaston with the intention of asking fur- 
ther of the coming visitor, and, keeping The Dancer as 
still as she could, sat looking at the valet with great, 
questioning eyes, fanning her hot face with her hat. 
Gaston, whose own horse stood like a rock, was frankly 
mopping his forehead. Diana decided against any more 
questions. Gaston would naturally be hopelessly biased, 
having been born and brought up in the shadow of the 
family, and after all she would rather judge for herself. 
One inquiry only she permitted herself : The family 
of Saint Hubert, are they of the old or the new 
noblesse f ''' 

“Of the old, Madame,” replied Gaston quickly. 

Diana coaxed her nervous mount close beside his 
steadier companion, and, thrusting his bridle and her hat 
into Gaston’s hands, slipped to the ground and walked 
away a little distance to the top of a small mound. She 
sat down on the summit with her back to the horses and 
her arms clasped round her knees. All that the coming 
of this strange man meant to her rushed suddenly over 
her. He was a man, obviously, who moved in the world, 
her world, since he apparently travelled extensively and 
his father was wealthy enough to run a racing stable 


THE SHEIK 


159 

as a hobby and was a member of the dwindling class of 
ancienne noblesse. It was characteristic of her that she 
put first what she did. How could she bear to meet one 
of her own order in the position in which she was? She 
who had been proud Diana Mayo and now — the mistress 
of an Arab Sheik? She laid her face on her knees with 
a shudder. The ordeal before her cut like a knife into 
her heart. The pride that Ahmed Ben Hassan had not 
yet killed flamed up and racked her with humiliation 
and shame, the shame that still seared her soul like a 
hot iron, so that there were moments she could not bear 
even the presence of tfie man who had made her what 
she was, in spite of the love she bore him, and, pleading 
fever, prayed to be alone. Not that he ever granted her 
prayer, for he knew fever when he saw it, but would pull 
her down beside him with a mocking laugh that still had 
the power to hurt so much. The thought of what it 
would be to her to meet his friend had presumably 
never entered his mind, or if it had it had made no im- 
pression and been dismissed as negligible. It was the 
point of view, she supposed drearily ; the standpoint from 
which he looked at things was fundamentally different 
from her own — racially and temperamentally they were 
poles apart. To him she was only the woman held in 
bondage, a thing of no account. , She sat very still fot 
a while with her face hidden, until a discreet cough from 
Gaston warned her that time was flying. She went 
back to the horses slowly with white face and compressed 
lips. There was the usual trouble in mounting, and 
her strained nerves made her impatient of The Dancer’s 
idiosyncrasies, and- she checked him sharply, making him 
rear dangerously. 


i6o 


THE SHEIK 


** Careful, Madame,” cried Gaston warningly. 

“For whom — me or MonseigneuFs horse?” she re- 
torted bitterly, and ignoring her hat, which Gaston held 
out to her with reproachful eyes, she spurred the horse 
viciously, making him break into a headlong gallop. It 
had got to be gone through, so get it over as soon as 
possible. And behind her, Gaston, for the first time in 
all his long service, cursed the master he would cheerfully 
have died for. 

The horse^s nerves, like her own, were on edge, and 
he pulled badly, his smooth satiny neck growing dark 
and seamed with sweat; Diana needed all her knowl- 
edge to control him, and she began to wonder if when 
they came to the camp she would be able to stop him. 
She topped an undulation that was some little distance 
from the tents with misgivings, and wrapped the reins 
round her hands to prevent them slipping through her 
fingers. As they neared she saw the Sheik standing out- 
side his tent, with a tall, thin man beside him. She had 
only a glimpse of dark, unruly hair and a close-cut 
beard as she shot past, unable to pull up The Dancer. 
But just beyond the tent, with the reins cutting into her 
hands, she managed to haul him round and bring him 
back. A couple of grooms jumped to his head, but, 
owing to his peculiar tactics, landed short, and he 
pranced to his own satisfaction and Diana’s rage, until 
the amusement of it passed and he let himself be caught. 
Diana had done nothing to stop him once she had man- 
aged to turn him. If the horse chose to behave like a 
fool she was not going to be made to look foolish by 
fighting him when she knew that it was useless. In the 
hands of the men he sidled and snorted, and, dropping 


THE SHEIK 


i6i 


the reins, Diana pulled off her gloves and sat for a mo- 
ment rubbing her sore hands. Then the Sheik came 
forward and she slid down. Before looking at him she 
turned and, catching at The Dancer’s head, struck him 
angrily over the nose with her thick riding-gloves and 
watched him led away, plunging and protesting, pulling 
the gloves through her fingers nervously, until Ahmed 
Ben Hassan’s voice made her turn. 

“ Diane, the Vicomte de Saint Hubert waits to be pre- 
sented to you.” 

She drew herself up and the colour that had come into 
her face drained out of it again. Slowly she glanced up 
at the man standing before her, and looked straight into 
the most sympathetic eyes that her own sad, defiant ones 
had ever seen. Only for a moment, then he bowed with 
a conventional murmur that was barely audible. 

His lack of words gave her courage. Monsieur,” 
she said coldly in response to his greeting, then turned to 
the Sheik without looking at him. “ The Dancer has 
behaved abominably. Gaston, my hat, please ! Thanks.” 
And vanished into the tent without a further look at any 
one. 

It was late, but she lingered over her bath and changed 
with slow reluctance into the green dress that the Sheik 
preferred — a concession that she despised herself for 
making. She had taken up the jade necklace when he 
joined her. 

He turned her to him roughly, with his hands on her 
shoulders, and the merciless pressure of his fingers was 
indication enough without the black scowl on his face 
that he was angry. “ You are not very cordial to my 
guest.” 


THE SHEIK 


162 

" Is it required of a slave to be cordial towards her 
master’s friends ? ” she replied in a stifled voice. 

“ What is required is obedience to my wishes/’ he 
said harshly. 

“ And is it your wish that I should please this French- 
man ? ” 

‘‘ It is my wish.” 

“ If I were a woman of your own race ” she be- 

gan bitterly, but he interrupted her. 

If you were a woman of my own race there would be 
no question of it,” he said coldly. You would be for 
the eyes of no other man than me. But since you are 

not ” He broke off with an enigmatical jerk of the 

head. 

“ Since I am not you are less merciful than if I 
was,” she cried miserably. I could wish that I was an 
Arab woman.” 

“ I doubt it,” he said grimly. " The life of an Arab 
woman would hardly be to your taste. We teach our 
women obedience with a whip.” 

“ Why have you changed so since this morning,” she 
whispered, “ when you told me that you trusted no one 
to climb to my balcony in the hotel but yourself? Are 
you not an Arab now as then? Have I become of so 
little value to you that you are not even jealous any 
more ? ” 

“ I can trust my friend, and — I do not propose to 
share you with him,” he said brutally. 

She winced as if he had struck her,, and hid her face 
in her hands with a low cry. 

His fingers gripped her shoulder cruelly. “You will 


THE SHEIK 163 

do as I wish?” The words were a question, but the 
intonation was a command. 

“ I have no choice,” she murmured faintly. 

His hands dropped to his sides and he turned to leave 
the room, but she caught his arm. ** Monseigneur ! 
Have you no pity ? Will you not spare me this ordeal ? ” 

He made a gesture of refusal. “ You exaggerate,” he 
said impatiently, brushing her hand from his arm. 

“If you will be merciful this once ” she pleaded 

breathlessly, but he cut her short with a fierce oath. 

“If?” he echoed. “Do you make bargains with me? 
Have you so much yet to learn ? ” 

She looked at him with a little weary sigh. The 
changing mood that she had set herself to watch for had 
come upon him suddenly and found her unprepared. 
The gentleness of the morning had vanished and he had 
reverted to the tyrannical, arbitrary despot of two months 
ago. She knew that it was her own fault. She knew 
him well enough to know that he was intolerant of any 
interference with his wishes. She had learned the futil- 
ity of setting her determination against his. There was 
one master in his camp, whose orders, however difficult, 
must be obeyed. 

His attention had concentrated on a broken finger- 
nail, and he turned to the dressing-table for a knife. 
She followed him with her eyes and watched him care- 
fully trimming the nail. She had often, amongst the 
many things that puzzled her, wondered at the fastidious 
care he took of his well-manicured hands. The light of 
the lamp fell full on his face, and there was a dull ache 
in her heart as she looked at him. He demanded im- 


THE SHEIK 


164 


plicit obedience, and only a few hours before she had 
made up her mind to unreserved submission, and she 
had broken down at the first test. The proof of her 
obedience was a hard one, from which she shrank, but 
it was harder far to see the look of anger she had pro- 
voked on the face of the man she loved. For two months 
of wild happiness it had been absent, the black scowl she 
had learned to dread had not been directed at her, and 
the fierce eyes had looked at her with only kindness or 
amusement shining in their dark depths. Anything 
could be borne but a continuance of his displeasure. 
No sacrifice was too great to gain his forgiveness. She 
could not bear his anger. She longed so desperately for 
happiness, and she loved him so passionately, so utterly, 
that she was content to give up everything to his will. 
If she could only get back the man of the last few weeks, 
if she had not angered him too far. She was at his 
feet, tamed thoroughly at last, all her proud, angry self- 
will swamped in the love that was consuming her with an 
intensity that was an agony. Love was a bitter pain, a 
torment that was almost unendurable, a happiness that 
mocked her with its hollowness, a misery that tortured 
her with visions of what might have been. She went 
to him slowly, and he turned to her abruptly. 

Well ? ’’ His voice was hard and uncompromising, 
and the flash of his eyes was like the tiger’s in the Indian 
jungle. 

She set her teeth to keep down the old paralysing fear. 

“ I will do what you want. I will do anything you 
want, only be kind to me, Ahmed,” she whispered unstead- 
ily. She had never called him by his name before ; she 
did not even know that she had done so now, but at the 



THE SHEIK 


165 

sound of it a curious look crossed his face, and he drew 
her into his arms with hands that were as gentle as they 
had been cruel before. She let him lift her face to his, 
and met his searching gaze bravely. Holding her look 
with the mesmerism that he could exert when he chose, 
he read in her face her final surrender, and knew that 
while it pleased him to keep her he had broken her 
utterly to his hand. A strange expression grew in his 
eyes as they travelled slowly over her. She was like a 
fragile reed in his strong grasp that he could crush with- 
out an effort, and yet for four months she had fought 
him, matching his determination with a courage that 
had won his admiration even while it had exasperated 
him. He knew she feared him, he had seen terror leap 
into her flickering eyes when she had defied him most. 
Her defiance and her hatred, which had piqued him by 
contrast with the fawning adulation to which he had been 
accustomed and which had wearied him infinitely, had 
provoked in him a fixed resolve to master her. Before 
he tired of her she must yield her will to him absolutely. 
And to-night he knew that the last struggle had been 
made, that she would never oppose him again, that she 
was clay in his hands to do with as he would. And 
the knowledge that he had won gave him no feeling of 
exultation, instead a vague, indefinite sense of irritation 
swept over him and made him swear softly under his 
breath. The satisfaction he had expected in his triumph 
was lacking and the unaccountable dissatisfaction that 
filled him seemed inexplicable. He did not understand 
himself, and he looked down at her again with a touch 
of impatience. She was very lovely, he thought, with a 
strange new appreciation of the beauty he had appro- 


i66 


THE SHEIK 


priated, and very womanly in the soft, clinging green 
dress. The slim, boyish figure that rode with him had a 
charm all its own, but it was the woman in her that sent 
the hot blood racing through his veins and made his 
heart beat as it was beating now. His eyes lingered a 
moment on her bright curls, on her dark-fringed, plead- 
ing eyes and on her bare neck, startlingly white against 
the jade green of her gown, then he put her from him. 

Va/* he said gently, depeche-toi” 

She looked after him as he went through the curtains 
with a long, sobbing sigh. She was paying a heavy 
price for her happiness, but she would have paid a 
heavier one willingly. Nothing mattered now that he 
was not angry any more. She knew what her total sub- 
mission meant: it was an end to all individualism, a 
complete self-abnegation, an absolute surrender to his 
wishes, his moods and his temper. And she was content 
that it should be so, her love was prepared to endure 
whatever he might put upon her. Nothing that he could 
do could alter that, and nothing should make her own her 
love. She had hidden it from him, and she would hide it 
from him — cost what it might. Though he did not love 
her he wanted her still ; she had read that in his eyes five 
minutes ago, and she was happy even for that. 

She turned to the glass suddenly and wrenched the 
silk folds off her shoulder. She looked at the marks of 
his fingers on the delicate skin with a twist of the lips, 
then shut her eyes with a little gasp and hid her bruised 
arm hastily, her mouth quivering. But she did not 
blame him, she had brought it on herself ; she knew his 
mood, and he did not know his own strength. 


THE SHEIK 167 

“If he killed me he could not kill my love,” she mur- 
mured, with a little pitiful smile. 

The men were waiting for her, and with a murmured 
apology for her lateness she took her place. The Sheik 
and his guest resumed the conversation that her entrance 
had interrupted. Diana’s thoughts were in confusion. 
She felt as if she were in some wild, improbable dream. 
An Arab Sheik, a French explorer, and herself playing 
the conventional hostess in the midst of lawless uncon- 
ventionalism. She looked around the tent that had be- 
come so familiar, so dear. It seemed different to-night, 
as if the advent of the stranger had introduced a foreign 
atmosphere. She had grown so accustomed to the rou- 
tine that had been imposed upon her that even the 
Vicomte’s servant standing behind his master seemed 
strange. The man’s likeness to his twin brother was 
striking, the only difference being that while Gaston’s 
face was clean-shaven, Henri’s upper lip was hidden by 
a neat, dark moustache. The service was, as always, per- 
fect, silent and quick. 

She glanced at the Sheik covertly. There was a look 
on his face that she had never seen and a ring in his 
voice that was different even from the tone she had heard 
when Gaston had come back on the night of her flight. 
That had been relief and the affection of a man for a 
valued servant, this was the deep affection of a man for 
the one chosen friend, the love passing the love of women. 
And the jealousy she had felt in the morning welled up 
uncontrollably. She looked from the Sheik to the man 
who was absorbing all his attention, but in his pale, clever 
face, half hidden by the close beard, she. saw no trace of 


THE SHEIK 


i68 

the conceited, smirking egotist she had imagined, and his 
voice, as low as the Sheik’s, but more animated, was not 
the voice of a man unduly elated or conscious of himself. 
And as she looked her eyes met his. A smile that was 
extraordinarily sweet and half-sad lit up his face. 

Is it permitted to admire Madame’s horsemanship ? ” 
he asked, with a little bow. 

Diana coloured faintly and twisted the jade necklace 
round her fingers nervously. “ It is nothing,” she said, 
with a shy smile that his sympathetic personality evoked 
in spite of herself. “ With The Dancer it is all foolish- 
ness and not vice. One has to hold on very tightly. It 
would have been humiliating to precipitate myself at the 
feet of a stranger. Monseigneur would not have ap- 
proved of the concession to The Dancer’s peculiarities. 
It is an education to ride his horses. Monsieur.” 

“ It is a strain to the nerves to ride beside some of 
them,” replied the Vicomte pointedly. 

Diana laughed with pure amusement. The man whose 
coming she had loathed was making the dreadful ordeal 
very easy for her. “ I sympathise. Monsieur. Was 
Shaitan very vile ? ” 

“If Monsieur de Saint Hubert is trying to suggest to 
you that he suffers froni nerves, Diane,” broke in the 
Sheik, with a laugh, “ disabuse yourself at once. He has 
none.” 

Saint Hubert turned to him with a quick smile. “ Et 

toi, Ahmed, eh? Do you remember ?” and he 

plunged into a flood of reminiscences that lasted until the 
end of dinner. 

The Vicomte had brought with him a pile of news- 
papers and magazines, and Diana curled up on the divan 


THE SHEIK 


169 

with an armful, hungry for news^ but, somehow, as she 
dipped into the batch of papers her interest waned. After 
four months of complete isolation it was difficult to pick 
up the threads of current events, allusions were incom- 
prehensible, and controversies seemed pointless. The 
happenings of the world appeared tame beside the great 
adventure that was carrying her on irresistibly and whose 
end she could not see and dared not think of. She 
pushed them aside carelessly and kept only on her knee 
a magazine that served as a pretext for her silence. 

When Gaston brought coffee the Vicomte hailed him 
with a gay laugh. Enfin, Gaston, after two years the 
nectar of the gods again! There is a new machine for 
you amongst my things, mon ami, providing it has sur- 
vived Henri's packing.” 

He brought a cup to Diana and set it on a stool beside 
her. “ Ahmed flatters himself I come to see him, 
Madame. I do not. I come to drink Gaston's coffee. It 
has become proverbial, the coffee of Gaston. I propitiate 
him every time I come with a new apparatus for making 
it. The last is a marvel of ingenuity. Excuse me, I go to 
drink it with the reverence it inspires. It is a rite, 
Madame, not a gastronomic indulgence.” 

Once more the sympathetic eyes looked straight into 
hers, and the quick blood rushed into her face as she bent 
her head again hurriedly over the magazine. She knew 
instinctively that he was trying to help her, talking non- 
sense with a tact that ignored her equivocal position. 
She was grateful to him, but even his chivalry hurt. She 
w^atched him under her thick lashes as he went back to 
the Sheik and sat down beside him, refusing his host's 
proffered cigarettes with a wry face of disgust and a 


THE SPIEIK 


170 

laughing reference to a perverted palate/’ as he searched 
for his own. The hatred she had been prepared to give 
him had died away during dinner — only the jealousy 
remained, and even that had changed from its first in- 
tensity to an envy that brought a sob into her throat. 
She envied him the light that shone in the Arab’s dark 
eyes, she envied him the intonation of the soft slow voice 
she loved. Her eyes turned to the Sheik. He was lean- 
ing back with his hands clasped behind his head, talking 
with a cigarette between his teeth. His attitude towards 
his European friend was that of an equal, the haughty, 
peremptory accent that was noticeable when he spoke to 
his followers was gone, and a flat contradiction from 
Saint Hubert provoked only a laugh and a gesture of 
acceptance. 

As they sat talking the contrast between the two men 
was strongly marked. Beside the Frenchman’s thin, 
spare frame and pale face, which gave him an air of 
delicacy, the Sheik looked like a magnificent animal in 
superb condition, and his quiet repose accentuated the 
Vicomte’s quick, nervous manner. Under the screen of 
her thick lashes Diana watched them unheeded. Their 
voices rose and fell continuousi]* ; they seemed to have a 
great deal to say to each other, and they talked indis- 
criminately French and Arabic so that much that they 
said was incomprehensible to her. She was glad that it 
should be so, she did not want to know what they were 
saying. It seemed as if they had forgotten her presence 
with the accumulated conversation of two years. She 
was thankful to be left alone, happy for the rare chance 
of studying the beloved face unnoticed. It was seldom 
she had the opportunity, for when they were alone she 


THE SHEIK 


171 

was afraid to look at him much lest her secret should be 
betrayed in her eyes. But she looked at him now un- 
observed, with passionate longing. She was so intent that 
she did not notice Gaston come in until he seemed sud- 
denly to appear from nowhere beside his master. He 
murmured something softly and the Sheik got up. He 
turned to Saint Hubert. 

** Trouble with one of the horses. Will you come? It 
may interest you.” 

They went out together, leaving her alone, and she 
slipped away to the inner room. In half-an-hour they 
came back, and for a few minutes longer stayed chatting, 
then the Vicomte yawned and held out his watch with a 
laugh. The Sheik went with him to his tent and sat down 
on the side of his guest’s camp-bed. Saint Hubert dis- 
missed the waiting Henri with a nod and started to 
undress silently. The flow of talk and ready laugh 
seemed to have deserted him, and he frowned as he 
wrenched his things off with nervous irritability. 

The Sheik watched him for a while, and then took the 
cigarette out of his mouth with a faint smile. “ Eh, bienl 
Raoul, say it,” he said quietly. 

Saint Hubert swung round. ** You might have spared 
her,” he cried. 

“ What?” 

What ? Good God, man I Me ! ” 

The Sheik flicked the ash from his cigarette with a 
gesture of indiflPerence. Your courier was delayed, he 
only came this morning. It was too late then to make 
other arrangements.” 

Saint Hubert took a hasty turn up and down the tent 
and stopped in front of the Sheik with his hands thrust 


172 


THE SHEIK 


deep in his pockets and his shoulders hunched up about 
his ears. “ It is abominable,” he burst out. You go 
too far, Ahmed.” 

The Sheik laughed cynically. What do you expect 
of a savage? When an Arab sees a woman that he 
wants he takes her. I only follow the customs of my 
people.” 

Saint Hubert clicked his tongue impatiently. Your 
people ! — which people ? ” he asked in a low voice. 

The Sheik sprang to his feet with flashing eyes, his 
hand dropping heavily on Saint Hubert's shoulder. 

Stop, Raoul! Not even from you !” he cried 

passionately, and then broke off abruptly, and the anger 
died out of his face. He sat down again quietly, with a 
little amused laugh. ‘‘ Why this sudden access of moral- 
ity, mon ami? Tou know me and the life I lead. You 
have seen women in my camp before now.” 

Saint Hubert dismissed the remark with a contempt- 
uous wave of the hand. “ There is i?o comparison. You 
know it as well as I,” he said succinctly. He moved over 
slowly to the camp table, where his toilet things had been 
laid out, and began removing the links from the cuffs of 
his shirt. “ She is English, surely that is reason enough,” 
he flung over his shoulder. 

You ask me, me to spare a woman because she is 
English? My good Raoul, you amuse me,” replied the 
Sheik, with an ugly sneer. 

‘‘ Where did you see her ? ” asked Saint Hubert curi- 
ously. 

“ In the streets of Biskra, for five minutes, four months 
ago.” 

The Vicomte turned quickly. “‘You love her?” he 


THE SHEIK 


173 

shot out, with all the suddenness of an American third 
degree. 

The Sheik exhaled a long, thin cloud of blue smoke and 
watched it eddying towards the top of the tent. ** Have 
I ever loved a woman? And this woman is English,*' he 
said in a voice as hard as steel. ; 

“If you loved her you would not care for her nation- 
ality." 

The Sheik spat the end of his cigarette on to the floor 
contemptuously. “ By Allah I Her cursed race sticks in 
my throat. But for that ” He shrugged his shoul- 

ders impatiently and got up from' the bed on which he 
was sitting. 

“ Let her go then," said Saint Hubert quickly. “ I can 
take her back to Biskra." 

The Sheik turned to him slowly, a sudden flame of 
fierce jealousy leaping into his eyes. “ Has she be- 
witched you, too? Do you want her for yourself, 
Raoul ? " His voice was as low as ever, but there was a 
dangerous ring in it. 

Saint Hubert flung his hands out in a gesture of de- 
spair. “Ahmed! Are you mad? Are you going to 
quarrel with me after all these years on such a pretext? 
Bon Dieii! What do you take me for? There has been 
too much in our lives together ever to let a woman come 
between us. What is a woman or any one to me where 
you are concerned ? It is for quite a diflferent reason that 
I ask you, that I beg you to let this girl go." 

“ Forgive me, Raoul. You know my devilish temper," 
muttered the Sheik, and for a moment his hand rested 
on Saint Hubert's arm. 

“ You have not answered me, Ahmed." 


174 THE SHEIK 

The Sheik turned away. ** She is content,*’ he said 
evasively. 

She has courage,** amended the Vicomte significantly. 

** As you say, she has courage,** agreed the Sheik, with- 
out a particle of expression in his voice. 

''Bon sang ** quoted Saint Hubert softly. 

The Sheik swung round quickly. *' How do you know 
she has good blood in her ? ** 

It is very evident,’* replied Saint Hubert drily. 

“ That is not what you mean. What do you know ? ** 

The Vicomte shrugged his shoulders, and, going to his 
suit-case, took from it an English illustrated paper, and 
opening it at the central page handed it to the Sheik 
silently. 

Ahmed Ben Hassan moved closer to the hanging lamp 
so that the light fell directly on the paper in his hands. 
There were two large full-length photographs of Diana, 
one in evening dress and the other as the Vicomte had 
first seen her, in riding breeches and short jacket, her hat 
and whip lying at her feet, and the bridle of the horse 
that was standing beside her over her arm. 

Under the photographs was written : '* Miss Diana 
Mayo, whose protracted journey in the desert is causing 
anxiety to a large circle of friends. Miss Mayo left 
Biskra under the guidance of a reputable caravan-leader 
four months ago, with the intention of journeying for four 
weeks in the desert and returning to Oran. Since the first 
camp nothing has been heard of Miss Mayo or her car- 
avan. Further anxiety is occasioned by the fact that 
considerable unrest is reported amongst the tribes in the 
locality towards which Miss Mayo was travelling. Her 
brother. Sir Aubrey Mayo, who is detained in America as 


THE SHEIK 


^75 

the result of an accident, is in constant cable communica* 
tion with the French authorities. Miss Mayo is a well- 
known sports^woman and has travelled widely.” 

For a long time the Sheik studied the photographs 
silently, then with slow deliberation he tore the page out 
of the paper and rolled it up. With your permission,” 
he said coolly, and held it over the flame of the little lamp 
by the bedside. He held it until the burning papef 
charred to nothing in his hand and then flicked the ashes 
from his long fingers. “Henri has seen this?” 

“ Unquestionably. Henri reads all my papers,” re- 
plied Saint Hubert, with a touch of impatience. 

“ Then Henri can hold his tongue,” said the Sheik 
nonchalantly, searching in the folds of his waist-cloth for 
his case and lighting another cigarette with elaborate care- 
lessness. 

“What are you going to do?” asked Saint Hubert 
pointedly. 

“ I ? Nothing ! The French authorities have too many 
affairs on hand and too high an appreciation of Ahmed 
Ben Hassan’s horses to prosecute inquiries in my direc- 
tion. Besides, they are not responsible. Mademoiselle 
Mayo was warned of the risks she ran before she left 
Biskra. She chose to take the risks, et voila! ” 

“ Will nothing make you change your mind? ” 

“ I am not given to changing my mind. You know that. 
And, besides, why should I? As I told you before, she 
is content.” 

Saint Hubert looked him full in the face. “ Content ! 
Cowed is the better word, Ahmed.” 

The Sheik laughed softly. “You flatter me, Raoul. 
Do not let us speak any more about it. It is an un- 


THE SHEIK 


176 

fortutiate contretemps, and I regret that it distresses you,” 
he said lightly; then with a sudden change of manner he 
laid his hands on the Vicomte’s shoulders. ‘‘ But this can 
make no difference to our friendship, mon ami; that is too 
big a thing to break down over a difference of opinion. 

You are a French nobleman, and I !” He gave a 

little bitter laugh. “ I am an uncivilised Arab. We can- 
not see things in the same way.” 

“ You could, but you will not, Ahmed,” replied the 
Vicomte, with an accent of regret. “ It is not worthy of 
you.” He paused and then looked up again with a little 
crooked smile and a shrug of defeat. “ Nothing can ever 
make any difference with us, Ahmed. I can disagree with 
you, but I cafft wipe out the recollection of the last twenty 
years.” 

A few minutes later the Sheik left him and went out 
into the night. He traversed the short distance between 
the tents slowly, stopping to speak to a sentry, and then 
pausing outside his own tent to look up at the stars. 
The Persian hound that always slept across the entrance 
uncurled himself and got up, thrusting a wet nose into 
his hand. The Sheik fondled the huge creature absently, 
stroking the deg’s shaggy head mechanically, hardly con- 
scious of what he was doing. A great restlessness that 
was utterly foreign to his nature had taken possession of 
him. He had been aware of it growing within him for 
some time, becoming stronger daily, and now the coming 
of Raoul de Saint Hubert seemed to have put the crown- 
ing touch to a state of mind that he was unable to under- 
stand. He had never been given to thinking of himself, 
or criticising or analysing his passing whims and fancies. 
All his life he had taken what he wanted; nothing on 


THE SHEIE 


which he had ever laid eyes of desire had been denied him. 
His wealth had brought him everything he had ever 
wished. His passionate temper had been characteristic 
even when he was a child, but these strange fits of unrea- 
sonable irritability were new, and he searched for a cause 
vainly. His keen eyes looked through the darkness to- 
wards the south. Was it the nearness of his hereditary 
enemy, who had presumed to come closer than he had ever 
done before to the border of the country that Ahmed Ben 
Hassan regarded as his own, that was causing this great 
unrest? He laughed contemptuously. Nothing would 
give him greater pleasure than coming into actual colli- 
sion with the man whom he had been trained from boy- 
hood to hate. As long as Ibraheim Omair remained with- 
in his own territory Ahmed Ben Hassan held his hand 
and kept in check his fierce followers, whose eyes were 
turned longingly towards the debatable land, but once 
let the robber Sheik step an inch over the border, and 
it was war, and war until one or both of the chiefs were 
dead. And if he died who had no son to succeed him; 
the huge tribe would split up in numerous little families 
for want of a leader to keep them together, and it would 
be left to the French Government to take over, if they 
could, the vast district that he had governed despotically. 
And at the thought he laughed again. No, it was not 
Ibraheim Omair who was troubling him. He pushed the 
hound aside and went into the tent. The divan where 
Diana had been sitting was strewn with magazines and 
papers, the imprint of her slender body still showed in 
the soft, heaped-up cushions, and a tiny, lace-edged hand- 
kerchief peeped out under one of them. He picked it up 
and looked at it curiously, and his forehead contracted 


THE SHEIK 


178 

slowly in the heavy black scowl. He turned his burning 
eyes toward the curtains that divided the rooms. Saint 
Hubert’s words rang in his ears. “ English ! ” he mut- 
tered with a terrible oath. And I have made her suffer 
as I swore any of that damned race should if they fell 
into my hands. Merciful Allah! Why does it give me 
so little pleasure ? ” 


CHAPTER VII 


Diana came into the living-room one morning about a 
week after the arrival of the Vicomte de Saint Hubert. 
She had expected to find the room empty, for the Sheik 
had risen at dawn and ridden away on one of the distant 
expeditions that had become so frequent, and she thought 
his friend had accompanied him, but as she parted the 
curtains between the two rooms she saw the Frenchman 
sitting at the little writing-table surrounded by papers and 
writing quickly, loose sheets of manuscript littering the 
floor around him. It was the first time that they had 
chanced to be alone, and she hesitated with a sudden shy- 
ness, But Saint Hubert had heard the rustle of the cur- 
tain, and he sprang to his feet with the courteous bow 
that proclaimed his nationality. 

Your pardon, Madame. Do I disturb you? Tell me 
if I am in the way. I am afraid I have been very untidy,’* 
he added, laughing apologetically, and looking at the heap 
of closely-written sheets strewing the rug. 

Diana came forward slowly, a faint colour rising in her 
face. I thought you had gone with Monseigneur.” 

I had some work to do — some notes that I wanted to 
transcribe before I forgot myself what they meant ; I write 
vilely. I have had a hard week, too, so I begged a day 
off. I may stay? You are sure I do not disturb you ? ** 
His sympathetic eyes and the deference in his voice 
brought an vsnexpected lump into her throat. She signed 

m 


THE SHEIK 


jSo 

to him to resume his work and passed out under the 
awning. Behind the tent the usual camp hubbub filled the 
air. A knot of Arabs at a little distance were watching 
one of the rough-riders schooling a young horse, noisily 
critical and offering advice freely, undeterred by the in- 
difference with which it was received. Others lounged 
past engaged on the various duties connected with the 
camp, with the Eastern disregard for time that relegated 
till to-morrow everything that could possibly be neglected 
to-day. Near her one of the older men, more rigid in 
his observances than the generality of Ahmed Ben Has- 
san’s followers, was placidly absorbed in his devotions, 
prostrating himself and fulfilling his ritual with the 
sublime lack of self-consciousness of the Mohammedan 
devotee. 

Outside his own tent the valet and Henri were sitting 
in the sun, Gaston on an upturned bucket, cleaning a 
rifle, and his brother stretched full length on the ground, 
idly flapping at the flies with the duster with which he 
had been polishing the Vicomte^'s riding-boots. Both men 
were talking rapidly with frequent little bursts of gay 
laughter. The Persian hound was lying at their feet. 
He raised his head as Diana appeared, and, rising, went to 
her slowly, rearing up against her with a paw on each 
shoulder, making clumsy efforts to lick her face, and she 
pushed him down with difficulty, stooping to kiss his 
shaggy head. 

She looked away across the desert beyond the last 
palms of the oasis. A haze hung round about, shimmer- 
ing in the heat and blurring the outline of the distant hills. 
A tiny breeze brought the acrid smell of amels closer 
to her, and the creaking whine of the tackling over the 


( 


THE SHEIK 


i8i 

well sounded not very far away. Diana gave a little sigh. 
It had all grown so familiar. She seemed to have lived no 
other life beside this nomad existence. The years that 
had gone before faded into a kind of dim remembrance, 
the time when she had travelled ceaselessly round the 
world with her brother seemed very remote. She had 
existed then, filling her life with sport, unconscious of the 
something that was lacking in her nature, and now she 
was alive at last, and the heart whose existence she had 
doubted was burning and throbbing with a passion that 
was consuming her. Her eyes swept lingeringly around 
the camp with a very tender light in them. Everything 
she saw was connected with and bound up in the man who 
was lord of it all. She was very proud of him, proud of 
his magnificent physical abilities, proud of his hold over 
his wild turbulent followers, proud with the pride of 
primeval woman in the dominant man ruling his fellow- 
men by force and fear. 

The old Arab had finished his prayers and rose leisurely 
from his knees, salaaming with a broad smile. All the 
tribesmen smiled on her, and would go out of their way 
to win a nod of recognition from her. She faltered a 
few words in stumbling Arabic in reply to his long, flow- 
ery speech, and with a little laugh beat a hasty retreat into 
the tent. 

She paused beside the Vicomte. “ Is it another 
novel ? ” she asked shyly, indicating the steadily increasing 
pile of manuscript. 

He turned on his chair, resting his arms on the rail, 
twirling^ a fountain pen between his fingers, and smiled at 
her as she curled up on the divan with Kopec, who had 
followed her into the tent ** No, Madame. Something 


THE SHEIK 


182 

more serious this time. It is a history of this very curi- 
ous tribe of Ahmed’s. They are different in so many 
ways from ordinary Arabs. They have been a race apart 
for generations. They have beliefs and customs pecul- 
iarly their own. You may, for instance, have noticed the 
singular absence among them of the strict religious prac- 
tices that hold among other Mohammedans. Ahmed Ben 
Hassan’s tribe worship first and foremost their Sheik, 
then the famous horses for which they are renowned, and 
then and then only — Allah.” 

“Is Monseigneur a Mohammedan?” 

Saint Hubert shrugged. “ He believes in a God,” he 
said evasively, turning back to his writing. 

Diana studied him curiously as he bent over his work. 
She smiled when she thought of the mental picture she 
had drawn of Saint Hubert before he came, and con- 
trasted it with the real man under her eyes. During the 
week that he had been in the camp he had forced her 
liking and compelled her confidence by the sympathetic 
charm of his manner. He had carried off a difficult posi- 
tion with a delicacy and savoir-faire that had earned him 
her gratitude. He had saved her a hundred humiliations 
with a tact that had been as spontaneous as it had 
been unobtrusive. And they had the bond between them 
of the common love they had for this strange leader of a 
strange tribe. What had been the origin of the friend- 
ship between these utterly dissimilar men- — a friendship 
that seemed to go back to the days of their boyhood ? The 
question intrigued her and she pondered over it, lying 
quietly on the divan, smoothing the hound’s huge head 
resting on her knee. 

The Vicomte wrote rapidly for some time and then 


THE SHEIK 


183 

flung down his pen with an exclctmation of relief, gathered 
up the loose sheets from the floor and, stacking them in 
an orderly heap on the table, swung round on his chair 
again. He looked at the gitrs slender little figure lying 
with the unconsciously graceful attitude of a child against 
the heaped-up cushions, her face bent over the dog’s 
rough, grey head, and he felt an unwonted emotion stir- 
ring in him. The quick sympathy that she had aroused 
from the first moment of seeing her had given place to a 
deeper feeling that moved him profoundly, and with it a 
chivalrous desire to protect, a longing to stand between 
her and the irremediable disaster that loomed inevitably 
ahead of her. 

She felt his concentrated gaze and looked up. You 
have done your work ? ” 

“ All I can do at the moment. Henri must unravel the 
rest; he has a passion for hieroglyphics. He is an in- 
valuable person; I could never get on without him. He 
bullied me when we were boys together — at least that is 
what I called it. He called it ‘ amusing Monsieur le 
Vicomte,’ and for the last fifteen years he has tyrannised 
over me wholeheartedly.” He laughed and snapped his 
fingers at Kopec, who whined and rolled his eyes in his 
direction, but did not lift his head from Diana’s knee. 

There was a pause, and Diana continued fondling the 
hound absently. “ I have read your books, Monsieur — 
all that Monseigneur has here,” she said at last, looking 
up gravely. 

He gave a little bow with a few murmured words that 
she did not catch. 

** Your novel interested me,” she went on, still stroking 
the hound, as if the nearness of the great beast helped her. 


THE SHEIK 


184 

" As a rule novels bore me, the subjects they deal with 
have been of no interest to me, but this one gripped me. 
It is unusual, it is wonderful, but — is it real?” She 
had spoken dispassionately V ith the boyish candour that 
was characteristic, not complimenting an author on a 
masterpiece, but stating a fact simply, as it appeared to 
her. 

Saint Hubert leaned forward over the back of his chair, 
** In what way — real ? ” he asked. 

She looked at him squarely. “Do you think there 
really exists such a man as you have drawn — a man who 
could be as tender, as unselfish, as faithful as your hero? ” 

Saint Hubert looked away, and, picking up his pen, 
stabbed idly at the blotting-pad, drawing meaningless 
circles and dots, with a slow shrug. The scorn in her 
voice and the sudden pain in her eyes hurt him. 

Do you know such a man, Monsieur, or is he wholly 
a creature of your imagination? ” she persisted. 

He completed a complicated diagram on the sheet of 
blotting-paper before answering. “ I do know a man 
who, given certain circumstances, has the ability to develop 
into such a character,” he said eventually in a low voice. 

She laughed bitterly.. “ Then you are luckier than 1. 
I am not very old, but during the last five years I have 
met many men of many nationalities, and I have never 
known one who in any degree resembles the preux chev- 
alier of your book. The men who have most intimately 
touched my life have not known the meaning of the word 
tenderness, and have never had a thought for any one 
beyond themselves. You have been more fortunate in 
your acquaintances. Monsieur.” 

A dull red crept into the Vicomte's face, and he con- 


THE SHEIK 


185 

tinued looking at the pen in his fingers. ** Beautiful 
women, Madame,” he said slowly, “ unfortunately pro- 
voke in some men all that is basest and vilest in their 
natures. No man knows to what depths of infamy he 
may stoop under the stress of a sudden temptation.” 

“ And the woman pays,” cried Diana vehemently. 
** Pays for the beauty God curses her with — the beauty 
she may hate herself ; pays until the beauty fades. How 

much ” She pulled herself up short, biting her lips. 

Moved by the sense of the sympathy that had uncon- 
sciously been influencing her during the past week and 
which had shaken the self-suppression that she had im- 
posed upon herself, her tongue had run away with her. 
She was afraid of the confidence that his manner was 
almost demanding of her. Her pride restrained her from 
the compassion that her loneliness had nearly yielded to. 

“ Excuse me,” she said coldly, “ my ideas cannot pos- 
sibly interest you.” 

“ On the contrary, you interest me profoundly,” he cor- 
rected quickly. 

She noticed the slight difference in his v/ords and 
laughed more bitterly than before. “As what? — a sud- 
ject for vivisection? Get on your operating coat and 
bring your instruments without delay. The victim is all 
ready for you. It will be ‘ copy * for your next book 1 ” 

“Madame!” 

He had sprung to his feet, and she looked up at him 
miserably, her hand held out in swift contrition. “ Oh, 
forgive me I I shouldn’t have said that. You haven’t de- 
served it. You have been — kind. I am grateful. For- 
give me and my rudeness. It must be the heat, it makes 
one very irritable, don’t you think ? ” 


t86 


THE SHEIK 


He Ignored her pitiful little subterfuge and raised her 
outstretched, quivering fingers to his lips. “If you will 
honour me with your friendship,” he said, with a touch 
of the old-world chivalry that was often noticeable in 
him, “ my life is at your service.” 

But as he spoke his voice changed. The touch of her 
cold fingers sent a rush of feeling through him that for an 
instant overpowered him. 

She let her hand lie in his, and for a few moments she 
avoided his eyes and looked down at the rough head in 
her lap. Then she met his gaze frankly. “ Your ofifer is 
too rare a thing to put on one side. If you will be my 
friend, as you are Monseigneur’s friend ” she fal- 

tered, turning her head away, and her fingers lying in his 
trembled slightly. 

He started and crushed the hand he was holding un- 
knowingly, as the thought was forced on him. Mon- 
seigneur’s friend! He realized that in the last few mo- 
ments he had forgotten the Sheik, had forgotten every- 
thing, swept off his feet by an intense emotion that stag- 
gered him with its unexpectedness, except the loveliness 
and helplessness of the girl beside him. His head was 
reeling; his calmness, his loyalty, his earlier feelings of 
dispassionate pity had given way to an extreme agitation 
that was rushing him headlong and threatening to over- 
whelm him. His heart beat furiously and he clenched his 
teeth, fighting to regain his usual saytg-froid. The emo- 
tional temperament that Diana had divined from his novel 
had sprung uppermost with a bound, overthrowing the 
rigid repression of years. The blood beat in his ears as 
he strove to master himself, to crush the madness that 
had come upon him. 


THE SHEIK 


187 

He had closed his eyes with the shock of self-revelation, 
he opened them now and looked down at her hesitatingly, 
almost fearfully, clasping her hand closer in his and 
leaning nearer to her, drawn irresistibly by the intoxica- 
tion of her nearness. He saw her through a mist that 
cleared gradually, saw that she was ignorant of the emo- 
tion she had awakened in him, and, conscious only of his 
sympathy, had left her hand in his as she would have 
left it in her brother’s. She was bent low over the hound, 
her face almost touching his big head, and as Saint 
Hubert looked a glistening tear dropped on Kopec’s rough, 
grey neck. She had forgotten him, forgotten even that 
he was standing beside her, in the one predominant 
thought that filled her mind. With an immense effort he 
got command of himself. Somehow he must conquer this 
sudden insanity. The loyalty that had hung trembling 
in the balance reasserted itself and a self-disgust seized 
him. He had been within an ace of betraying the man 
who had been for twenty years nearer to him than a 
brother. She belonged to his friend, and now he had not 
even the right to question the ethics of the Sheik’s pos- 
session of her. The calm that he had lost came back to 
him. The wound would heal though it might always 
throb, but he was strong enough to hide its existence even 
from the jealous eyes that had watched him ceaselessly 
since his outburst on the night of his arrival. He had 
been conscious of them daily. Even this morning the 
Sheik had made every effort short of a direct command 
to induce him to go with him on the expedition that had 
taken him away so early. Sure of himself now, he lifted 
her fingers to his lips again reverently with a kind gf 
renunciation in his kiss, and laid her hand down gently. 


i88 


THE SHEIK 


He turned away with a smothered sigh and a little pang 
at her complete absorption, and, as he did so, Henri came 
in quickly. 

** Monsieur le Vicomte! Will you come? There has 
been an accident.’* 

With a cry that Saint Hubert never forgot Diana 
leaped to her feet, her face colourless, and her lips framed 
the word Ahmed,” though no sound came from them. 
She was shaking all over, and the Vicomte put his arm 
round her instinctively. She clung to him, and he knew 
with a bitter certainty that the support of a table or a 
chair would have meant no less to her. 

“ What is it, Henri ? ” he said sharply, with a slight 
movement that interposed himself between Diana and his 
servant. 

** One of the men. Monsieur le Vicomte. His gun 
burst, and his hand is shattered.” 

Saint Hubert nodded curtly towards the door and 
turned his attention to Diana. She sank down on the 
divan and, gathering the hound’s head in her arm, buried 
her face in his neck. “ Forgive me,” she murmured, her 
voice muffled in the rough, grey hair. “ It is stupid of 
me, but he is riding that brute Shaitan to-day. I am al- 
ways nervous. Please go. I will come in a minute.” 

He went without a word. “ I am always nervous.” 
The tales he had heard of Diana Mayo as he passed 
through Biskra did not include nerves. His face was set 
as he ran hurriedly across the camp. 

Diana sat quite still after he had gone until the nervous 
shuddering ceased, until Kopec twisted his head free of 
her arms and licked her face with an uneasy whine. She 
brushed her hand across her eyes with a gasp of relief, 



THE SHEIK 


189 

and went out into the bright sunlight with the hound at 
her heels. 

The noisy clamour of excited voices guided her to the 
scene of the accident, and the surrounding crowd opened 
to let her pass through. The wounded man was sitting 
holding up his hand stoically for Saint Hubert’s minis- 
trations with a look of mild interest on his face. In 
response to Diana’s smile and cheery word he grinned 
sheepishly with a roll of his fine eyes. Saint Hubert 
looked up quickly. “ It is not a pleasant sight,” he said 
doubtfully. 

I don’t mind. Let me hold that,” she said quietly, 
rolling up her sleeves and taking a crimson-spattered basin 
from Henri. Saint Hubert flashed another look at her, 
marvelling at her steady voice and even colour when he 
thought of the white-faced girl who had clung trembling 
to him ten minutes earlier. Outside of Ahmed Ben Has- 
san she still retained the fearless courage that she had 
always had; it was only when anything touched him 
nearly that the new Diana, with the coward anxiety of 
love, rose paramount. 

She watched the Vicomte’s skilful treatment of the 
maimed hand with interest. There was a precision in his 
movement and a deft touch that indicated both knowledge 
and practise. “ You are a doctor? ” 

“ Yes,” he said, without looking up from his work, “ I 
studied when I was a young man and passed all the neces- 
sary examinations. It is indispensable when one travels 
as I do. I have found it invaluable.” 

He took up some dressing that Henri held ready for 
him, and Diana handed the now unwanted bowl to Gaston. 
She looked again at the Arab, whose impassive face 


190 


THE SHEIK 


showed no sign of any feeling. ** Does he feel it very 
much, do you think ? ” she asked the valet. 

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. ** Less than 
I should, Madame. What is really troubling him is the 
thought of what Monseigneur will say when he hears that 
Selim was fool enough to buy a worthless gun from one 
of the servants of the Dutchman who passed here last 
week,’^ and he added a few teasing words in Arabic which 
made Selim look up with a grimace. 

Saint Hubert finished adjusting the bandages and stood 
up, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. 

“ Will he do all right now ? ” asked Diana anxiously. 

‘‘ I think so. The thumb is gone, as you saw, but I 
think I can save the rest of the hand. I will watch him 
carefully, but these men of Ahmed’s are in such excellent 
condition that I do not think there will be any trouble.” 

“ I am going to ride,” said Diana, turning away. ‘‘ It is 
rather late, but there is just time. Will you come? ” 

It was a temptation and he hesitated, gathering together 
the instruments he had been using, but prudence prevailed. 

I should like to, but I ought to keep an eye on Selim,’* 
he said quietly, snatching at the plausible excuse that 
offered. He found her later before the big tent as she 
was ready to start, and waited while she mounted. 

If I am late don’t wait for me. Tell Henri to give 
you your lunch,” she called out between The Dancer’s 
idiotic prancings. 

He watched her ride away, with Gaston a few paces 
behind and followed by the escort of six men that the 
Sheik had lately insisted upon. The continual presence 
of these six men riding at her heels irked her considerably. 
The wild, free gallops that she had loved became quite 


THE SHEIK 


191 

different with the thought of the armed guard behind her. 
They seemed to hamper her and put a period to her en- 
joyment. The loneliness of her rides had been to her half 
their charm ; she had grown accustomed to and oblivious 
of Gaston, but she was acutely conscious of the six pairs 
of eyes watching her every movement. She did not see 
the necessity for them. She had never been aware of 
anything any time when she was riding that seemed to 
justify the Sheik’s order. The oasis was not on a cara- 
van route, and if she eve/ saw Arabs at any distance from 
the camp they always proved to be Ahmed Ben Hassan’s 
own men. She had thought of remonstrating with him, 
but her courage had failed her. His mood, since the 
coming of Saint Hubert, had been of the coldest — almost 
repellant. The weeks of happiness that had gone before 
had developed the intimacy between them almost into a 
feeling of camaraderie. He had been more humane, more 
Western, more considerate than he had ever been, and 
the fear that she had of him had lain quiescent. She 
could have asked him then. But since the morning of 
Raoul’s arrival, when the unexpected fervour of his em- 
brace had given new birth to the hope that had almost died 
within her, he had changed completely into a cold reser^'^e 
that chilled her. His caresses had been careless and in- 
frequent, and his indifference so great that she had won- 
dered miserably if the flame of his passion for her was 
burning out and if this was the end. And yet throughout 
his indifference she had been conscious, like Saint Hubert, 
of the surveillance of constant jealous eyes that watched 
them both with a fierce scrutiny that was felt rather than 
actually seen. But the spark of hope that the knowledge 
of this jealousy still fanned was not great enough to 


THE SHEIK 


1192 

overcome the harrier that his new mood had raised be- 
tween them. She dared ask no favour of him now. Her 
heart tightened at the thought of his indifference. It 
hurt so. This morning he had left her without a word 
when he had gone out into the early dawn, and she was 
hungry for the kisses he withheld. She was used to his 
taciturn fits, but her starved heart ached perpetually for 
tangible recognition. Love, the capacity for which she 
had so long denied, had become a force that, predominat- 
ing everything, held her irresistibly. The accumulated 
affection that, for want of an outlet, had been stemmed 
within her, had burst all restraint, and the love that she 
gave to the man to whom she had surrendered her proud 
heart was immeasurable — a love of infinite tenderness 
and complete unselfishness, a love that had made her 
strangely humble. She had yielded up everything to him, 
he dominated her wholly. Her imperious will had bent 
before his greater determination, and his mastery over her 
had provoked a love that craved for recompense. She 
only lived for him and for the hope of his love, engulfed 
in the passion that enthrallecfTiel^. Her surrender had 
been no common one. The |ieminine weakness that she 
had despised and fought against had triumphed over her 
unexpectedly without humiliating thoroughness. Sex had 
supervened to overthrow all her preconceived notions. 
The womanly instincts that under Aubrey’s training had 
been suppressed and undeveloped had, in contact with the 
Sheik’s vivid masculinity and compelling personality, risen 
to the surface with startling completeness. 

To-day she was almost desperate. His callousness of 
the morning had wounded her deeply, and a wave of 
rebellion welled up in her. She would not be thrown 


THE SHEIK 


193 


aside without making any effort to fight for his love. 
She would use every art that her beauty and her woman’s 
instinct gave her. Her cheek burned as she thought of 
the role she was setting herself. She would be no better 
than “ those others ” whose remembrance still made her 
shiver. But she crushed down the repugnant feeling 
resolutely, flinging up her head with the old haughty ges- 
ture and drawing herself straighter in the saddle with 
compressed lips. She had endured so much already that 
she could even bear this further outrage to her feelings. 
At no matter what cost she must make him care for her. 
Though she loathed the means she would make him love 
her. But even as she planned the doubt of her ability to 
succeed crept into her mind, torturing her with insidious 
recollections. 

Ahmed Ben Hassan was no ordinary man to succumb 
to the fascinations of a woman. She had experienced his 
obstinacy, and knew the inflexibility of his nature. His 
determination was a rock against which she had been 
broken too many times not to know its strength. For a 
moment she despaired, then courage came to her again, 
thrusting away the doubts that crowded in upon her and 
leaving the hope that still lingered in her heart. A 
faint tremulous smile curved her lips, and she looked 
up, forcing her thoughts back to the present with an 
effort. 

At the beginning of the ride they had passed several 
vedettes sitting motionless on their impatient horses. The 
men had swung their rifles high in the air in salute as she 
passed, and once or twice Gaston had shouted a question 
as he galloped after her. But for the last hour they had 
seen no one. The desert was undulating here, rising and 


194 the sheik 

falling in short, sharp declivities that made a wide outlook 
impossible. 

Gaston spurred to Diana’s side. " Will Madame please 
to turn ? ” he said respectfully. “ It is late, and it is not 
safe riding amongst these slopes. One cannot see what 
is coming and I am afraid.” 

‘‘Afraid, Gaston?” she rallied laughingly. 

“ For you, Madame,” he answered gravely. 

She reined in The Dancer as she spoke; but it was too 
late. Even as she turned her horse’s head innumerable 
Arabs seemed to spring up on all sides of them. Before 
she realised what was happening her escort flashed past 
and wheeled in behind her, shooting steadily at the horde 
of men who poured in upon them, and, with a groan, Gas- 
ton seized her bridle and urged the horses back in the 
direction from which they had come. The noise was 
deafening, the raucous shouting of the Arabs and the 
continuous sharp crack of the rifles. Bullets began to 
whizz past her. 

Gaston tucked his reins under his knee, and with one 
hand grasping The Dancer’s bridle and his revolver in 
the other, rode looking back over his shoulder. Diana, 
too, glanced behind her, and mechanically her fingers 
closed over the shining little weapon that the Sheik had 
given her the previous week. She saw with a sudden 
sickening the six men who had formed her escort beaten 
back by the superior numbers that enclosed them on every 
side. Already two were down and the rest were on foot, 
and, as she watched, they were swallowed up in the mass 
of men that poured over them, and, at the same time, a 
party of about twenty horsemen detached themselves from 
the main body and galloped towards her and Gaston. 


THE SHEIK 


195 

She seized his arm. “ Can’t we do something? Can’t 
we help them? We can’t leave them like that,” she 
gasped, wrenching the revolver from the holster at her 
waist. 

“ No, no, Madame, it is impossible. It is a hundred to 
six. You must think of yourself. Go on, Madame. 
For God’s sake, ride on. We may have a chance.” He 
loosed her bridle and dropped behind her, interposing him- 
self between her and the pursuing Arabs. A fierce yelling 
and a hail of bullets that went wide made Diana turn her 
head as she crouched low in the saddle. She realised the 
meaning of Gaston’s tactics and checked her horse delib- 
erately. 

‘‘ I won’t go first. You must ride with me,” she cried, 
wincing as a bullet went close by her. 

Mon Dieu! What are you stopping for? Do you 
think I can face Monseigneur if anything happens to you, 
Madame ? ”■ replied Gaston fiercely. Do as I tell you. 
Go on ! ” Deference was gone in the fear that roughened 
his voice. 

He looked back and his face grew grey. For himself 
he had no fear, but for the girl beside him he dared not 
even think. They were Ibraheim Omair’s men who had 
trapped them, and he cursed his folly in allowing Diana to 
come so far. Yet it had seemed safe enough. The 
scout’s reports had lately proved that the robber Sheik had 
up to now respected the boundary line between the two 
territories. This must be a sudden tentative raid which 
had met with unlooked-for success. The bait would be 
too tempting to allow of any slackening on the part of the 
raiders. The white woman, who was Ahmed Ben Has- 
san’s latest toy, and his servant, whom he was known to 


THE SHEIK 


196 

value so highly, would be a prize that would not be 
lightly let go. For himself it would be probably torture, 

certainly death, and for her ! He set his teeth as he 

looked at her and the perspiration poured down his face. 
He would kill her himself before it came to that. And as 
he looked she turned her head, and met his agonised eyes 
for a moment, smiling bravely. He had refrained up till 
now from shooting, trying to reserve his ammunition for 
a last resource, but he saw that he must delay no longer. 
He fired slowly and steadily, picking his men with care- 
ful precision. It was a forlorn hope, but by checking the 
leaders even for a few moments he might gain time. 
The accuracy of his aim, that every time proved effectual, 
might keep back the onrush until they got clear of the un- 
dulating country, until they got out into the open where 
the sounds of the firing might reach some of the outpost 
sentinels, until they got too near to the Sheik’s camp for 
pursuit to be possible. The bullets pattered continuously 
round them, but the men who fired them were not Ahmed 
Ben Hassan’s carefully trained marksmen. But still Gas- 
ton knew that their position was almost hopeless. Any 
moment a bullet might reach one of them. 

Their pursuers, too, seemed to guess his thoughts and 
opened out into an irregular, extended line, swerving and 
manoeuvring continually, making accurate shooting im- 
possible, while they urged their horses to a terrific pace 
trying to outflank them. Diana was shooting now. The 
thought of her escort’s annihilation and her own and 
Gaston’s peril had overcome the reluctance she had had at 
first, and she had even a moment to wonder at her cool- 
ness. She did not feel afraid, the death of Ahmed’s men 
had made her angry, a fierce revengeful anger that made 


THE SHEIK 


197 

her see red and filled her with a desire to retaliate in 
kind. She fired rapidly, emptying her revolver, and she 
had just reloaded with steady fingers when The Dancer 
stumbled, recovering himself for a few steps, and then 
lurched slowly over on to his side, blood pouring from 
his mouth. Diana sprang clear, and in a moment Gaston 
was beside her, thrusting her behind him, shielding her 
with his own body, and firing steadily at the oncoming 
Arabs. 

The same feeling of unreality that she had experienced 
once before the first day in the Sheik’s camp came over 
her. The intense stillness — for the Arabs had ceased 
shouting — the hot, dry sand with the shimmering heat 
haze rising like mist from its whispering surface, the 
cloudless deep blue sky overhead, the band of menacing 
horsemen circling nearer and nearer, the dead Dancer, 
with Gaston’s horse standing quietly beside his prostrate 
companion, and lastly, the man beside her, brave and de- 
voted to the end, all seemed fantastic and unreal. She 
viewed it dispassionately, as if she were a spectator rather 
than a participant in the scene. But for a moment only, 
then the reality of the situation came clearly to her again. 
Any minute might mean death for one or other or both 
of them, and with an instinctive movement she pressed 
closer to Gaston. They were both silent, there seemed 
nothing to say. The valet’s left hand clenched over hers 
at the involuntary appeal for companionship that she 
made, and she felt it contract as a bullet gashed his fore- 
head, blinding him for a moment with the blood that 
dripped into his eyes. He let go her hand to brush his 
arm across his face, and as he did so the Arabs with 
suddenly renewed shouting bore down upon them^ 


THE SHEIK 


198 

Gaston turned sharply and Diana read his purpose in the 
horror in his eyes. She held up her head with a little 
nod and the same brave smdle on her white lips. 
“ Please,” she whispered, “ quickly ! ” 

A spasm crossed his face. “ Turn your head,” he 
muttered desperately. “ I cannot do it if you ” 

There was a rattle of shots, and with a gasp he crumpled 
up against her. For a moment it was pandemoniuih. 
Standing over Gaston’s body she fired her last shot and 
flung the empty revolver in the face of a man who sprang 
forward to seize her. She turned with a desperate hope 
of reaching Gaston’s horse, but she was hemmed in, and 
for a second she stood at bay, hands clenched and teeth 
set, braving the wild faces that surrounded her, and were 
closing in upon her, with flashing defiant eyes. Then she 
was conscious of a crashing blow on her head, the ground 
heaved up under her feet, everything went black before 
her eyes, and without a sound she fell senseless. 

Late in the afternoon Saint Hubert was still writing in 
the big tent. Henri had deciphered the notes that had 
baffled his master in the morning, and the Vicomte had 
taken advantage of the solitude to do some long-neglected 
work. He had forgotten the time, forgotten to be sur- 
prised at Diana’s continued absence, immersed in the inter- 
esting subject he was dealing with, and not realising the 
significance of her delayed return. Ahmed had spoken of 
the proximity of his hereditary enemy, but Saint Hubert 
had not grasped how near the robber Sheik had ventured. 

He was too engrossed to notice the usual noise in the 
camp that heralded the Sheik’s arrival, and he looked up 
with a start when Ahmed Ben Hassan swept in. The 


THE SHEIK 199 

Sheik’s dark eyes glanced sombrely around the tent and 
without a word he went through into the inner room. In 
a rnomrent he came back. 

“ Wliere is Diane? ” 

Saint Hubert got up, puzzled at his tone. He looked at 
his w^tch. “ She went for a ride this morning. Dieul 
I had no idea it was so late.” 

“This morning! — and not back yet?” repeated the 
Sheik slowly. “What time this morning?” 

About ten, I think,” replied Saint Hubert uneasily. 
“ J ’m not sure. I didn’t look. There was an accident, 
and she delayed to watch me tie up one of your foolish 
children who had been playing with a worthless gun.” 

The Sheik moved over to the doorway. “ She had an 
•escort?” he asked curtly. 

“ Yes.” 

Ahmed Ben Hassan’s face hardened and the heavy 
scowl contracted his black brows. Had she all these 
weeks been tricking him — feigning a content she did not 
feel, lulling his .suspicions to enable her to seize another 
opportunity to attempt to get away? For a moment his 
face grew dark, then he put the thought from him. He 
trusted her. Only a week before she had given him her 
word, and he knew she would not lie to him. And, be- 
sides, the thing was impossible. Gaston would never be 
caught napping a second time, and there were also 
the six men who formed her guard. She would never 
be able to escape the vigilance of seven men. But it was 
the trust he had in her that weighed most with him. He 
had never trusted a woman before, but this woman had 
been different. The others who had come and gone so 
lightly had not even left a recollection behind them ; they 


200 


THE SHEIK 


had faded into one concrete cause of utter boredom. 
There had never been any reason to trust or mistrust 
them, or to care if they came or went. Satiety hi id come 
with possession and with it indifference. But the emotion 
that this girl’s uncommon beauty and slender boy ishness 
had aroused in him had not diminished during the months 
she had been living in his camp. Her varying moon’s, her 
antagonism, her fits of furious rage, and, lastly, her un- 
expected surrender, had kept his interest alive. He had 
grown accustomed to her. He had come to looking for- 
ward with a vague, indefinite pleasure, on returning fr im 
his long expeditions, to seeing the dainty little figure 
curled up among the cushions on the big divan. Her 
presence seemed to pervade the atmosphere of the whole 
tent, changing it utterly. She had become necessary to 
him as he had never believed it possible that a woman 
could be. And with the change that she had made in his 
camp there had come a change in himself also. 

For the first time a shadow had risen between him and 
the man whose friendship had meant everything to him 
since, as a lad of fifteen, he had come under the influence 
of the young Frenchman, who was three years his senior. 
He realized that since the night of Raoul’s arrival he had 
been seething with insensate jealousy. He had relied on 
the Western tendencies that prompted him to carry off the 
difficult situation, but his ingrained Orientalism had 
broken through the superficial veneer. He was jealous 
of every word, every look she gave Saint Hubert. Pride 
had prevented an open rupture with the Vicomte this 
morning, but he had ridden away filled with a cold rage 
that had augmented every hour and finally driven him 
back earlier than he had intended, riding with a reckless- 


THE SHEIK 


201 


ness that had been apparent even to his men. The sight 
of Raoul sitting alone absorbed in his work had in part 
allayed his suspicions, and he had gone on into the other 
room with a feeling of new expectancy that had changed 
to a sudden chill at its emptiness. The vacant room had 
brought home to him abruptly all that the girl meant to 
him. A latent anxiety crept into his eyes. 

He went out under the awning and clapped his hands, 
and a servant answered the summons almost immediately. 
He gave an order and waited, his hands thrust into the 
folds of his waist-cloth and his teeth clenched on a cig- 
arette that he had forgotten to light. 

Saint Hubert joined him. ‘‘What do you think?” he 
asked, with a touch of diffidence. 

“ I don't know what to think,” replied the Sheik shortly. 

“ But is there any real danger ? ” 

“ There is always danger in the desert, particularly 
when that devil is ;-broad.” He motioned to the south 
with an impatient jerk of his head. 

Saint Hubert's breath whistled sharply through his 
teeth. “ My God ! You don't imagine '' 

But the Sheik only shrugged his shoulders and turned 
to Yusef, who had come up with half-a-dozen men. 
There was a rapid interchange of questions "^nd answers, 
some brief orders, and the men hurried away in different 
directions, while Ahmed Ben Hassan turned again to 
Saint Hubert. 

“ They were seen by three of the southern patrols this 
morning, but of course it was nobody's business to find 
out if they had come back or not. I will start at once — 
in about ten minutes. You will come with me? Good! 

I have sent for reinforcements, who are to follow us if we 


202 


THE SHEIK 


are not back in twelve hours.” His voice was expres- 
sionless, and only Raoul de Saint Hubert, who had known 
him since boyhood, could and did appreciate the signifi- 
cance of a fleeting look that crossed his face as he went 
back into the tent. 

For a moment the Vicomte hesitated, but he knew that 
not even he was wanted inside that empty tent, and a half- 
bitter, half-sad feeling that the perfect friendship and 
confidence that had existed between them for twenty years 
would never again be the same came to them, the regretful 
sense of inevitable change, the consciousness of personal 
relegation. Then fear for Diana drove out every other 
consideration, and he went to his own quarters with a 
heavy heart. 

When he came back in a few minutes with Henri fol- 
lowing him the camp had undergone a transformation. 
With the promptness of perfect discipline the hundred 
men who had been chosen to go on "he expedition were 
already waiting, each man standing by his horse, and the 
Sheik, quiet and impassive as usual, was superintending 
the distribution of extra ammunition. A groom was 
walking The Hawk slowly up and down, and Yusef, 
whose gloomy eyes had been fixed reproachfully on his 
chief, chafing against the order to remain behind to take 
command of the reinforcements should they be needed, 
went to him and took the horse’s bridle from him and 
brought him to the Sheik. Even as he held the stirrup 
Saint Hubert could see that he was expostulating with an 
unusual insistence, begging for permission to accompany 
them. But the Sheik shook his head, and the young man 
stood sullenly aside to avoid The Hawk’s hoofs as he 
reared impatientV. 


THE SHEIK 


203 


Ahmed Ben Hassan motioned Saint Hubert to his side 
and in silence the cavalcade started at the usual swift 
gallop. The silence impressed Raoul, who was accus- 
tomed to the Arab’s usual clamour. It affected his sensi- 
tive temperaments, filling him with a sinister foreboding. 
The silent band of stern- faced horsemen riding in close 
and orderly formation behind them suggested something 
more than a mere relief party. The tradition of reck- 
less courage and organised fighting efficiency that had 
made the tribe known and feared for generations had been 
always maintained, and under the leadership of the last 
two holders of the hereditary name to so high a degree 
that the respect in which it was held was such that no 
other tribe had ventured to dispute its supremacy, and 
for many years its serious fighting capacities had not been 
tested. 

Even Ibraheim Omair had inherited a feud that was 
largely traditional. Only once during the lifetime of the 
last Ahmed Ben Hassan had he dared to come into open 
conflict, and the memory of it had lasted until now. Skir- 
mishes there had been and would always be inevitably, 
sufficient to keep the tribesmen in a state of perpetual 
expectancy, and for this Ahmed Ben Hassan preserved 
the rigid discipline that prevailed in his tribe, insisting 
on the high standard that had kept them famous. The 
life-work that his predecessor had taken over from his 
father the present Ahmed Ben Hassan had carried on 
and developed with autocratic perseverance. The inborn 
love of fighting had been carefully fostered in the tribe, 
the weapons with which they were armed were of the 
newest pattern. Raoul knew with perfect certainty that 
to the picked men following them this hasty expedition 


THE SHEIK 


204 

meant only one thing — war, the war that they had looked 
forward to all their lives, precipitated now by an acci- 
dent that gave to a handful of them the chance that 
hundreds of their fellow-tribesmen were longing for, 
a chance that sent them joyfully behind their chief, care- 
less whether the reinforcements that had been sent for 
arrived in time or not. The smallness of their numbers 
was a source of pleasure rather than otherwise; if they 
won through to them would be the glory of victory; 
if they were annihilated with them would rest the honour 
of dying with the leader whom they worshipped, for not 
one of them doubted that Ahmed Ben Hassan would not 
survive his bodyguard, the flower of his tribe, the care- 
fully chosen men from whose ranks his personal escort 
was always drawn. With them he would crush his 
hereditary enemy or with them he would die. 

The short twilight had gone and a brilliant moon shone 
high in the heavens, illuminating the surrounding country 
with a clear white light. At any other time the beauty 
of the scene, the glamour of the Eastern night, the head- 
long gallop in company with this band of fierce fighting 
men would have stirred Saint Hubert profoundly. His 
artistic temperament and his own absolute fearlessness 
and love of adventure would have combined to make the 
expedition an exciting experience that he would not will- 
ingly have foregone. But the reason for it all, the peril 
of the girl whom he loved so unexpectedly, changed the 
whole colour of the affair, tinging it with a gravity and 
a suspense that left a cold fear in his heart. And if to 
him, what then to the man beside him? The question 
that Ahmed Ben Hassan had negatived so scornfully a 
week before had been answered differently in the swiff 


THE SHEIK 


205 

look that had crossed his face this evening. He had not 
spoken since they started, and Saint Hubert had not felt 
able to break the silence. They had left the level coun- 
try and were in amongst the long, successive ranges of 
undulating ground, the summits standing out silver white 
in the gleaming moonlight, the hollows filled with dark 
shadow, like black pools of deep, still water. And at the 
bottom of one of the slopes the Sheik pulled up suddenly 
with a low, hissing exclamation. A white shape was 
lying face downwards, spread-eagled on the sand, almost 
under The Hawk’s feet, and at their approach two lean, 
slinking forms cantered away into the night. The Sheik 
and Henri reached the still figure simultaneously and Saint 
Hubert almost as quickly. He made a hurried examina- 
tion. The bullet that had stunned Gaston had glanced 
off, leaving an ugly cutp and others that had hit hiui at 
the same time had ploughed through his shoulder, break- 
ing the bone and causing besides wounds that had bled 
freely. He had staggered more than a mile before he 
had fainted again from loss of blood. He came to under 
Saint Hubert’s handling, and lifted his, heavy eyes to the 
Sheik, who was kneeling beside him. 

‘‘ Monseigneur — Madame — Ibraheim Omair,” he 
whispered weakly, and relapsed into unconsciousness. 

For -a moment the Sheik’s eyes met Raoul’s across his 
body, and then Ahmed Ben Hassan rose to his feet. 
‘‘ Be as quick as you can,” he said, and went back to his 
horse. He leaned against The Hawk, his fingers mechan- 
ically searching for and lighting a cigarette, his eyes 
fixed unseeingly on the group around Gaston. The 
« valet’s broken words had confirmed the fear that he had 
striven to crush since he discovered Diana’s absence. 


206 


THE SHEIK 


He had only seen Ibraheim Omair once when, ten years 
before, he had gone with the elder Ahmed Ben Hassan 
to a meeting of the more powerful chiefs at Algiers, ar- 
ranged under the auspices of the French Government, to 
confer on a complicated boundary question that had 
threatened an upheaval amongst the tribes which the nom- 
inal protectors of the country were afraid would be pre- 
judicial to their own prestige, as it would have been 
beyond their power to quell. He had chafed at having to 
meet his hereditary enemy on equal terms, and only the 
restraining influence of the old Sheik, who exacted an 
unquestioning obedience that extended even to his heir, 
had prevented a catastrophe that might have nullified the 
meeting and caused infinitely more complications than the 
original boundary dispute. But the memory of the robber 
Sheik remained with him always, and the recollection of 
his bloated, vicious face and gross, unwieldy body rose 
clearly before him now. 

Ibraheim Omair and the slender daintiness that he had 
prized so lightly. Diane! His teeth met through the 
cigarette in his mouth. His senseless jealousy and the 
rage provoked by Raoul’s outspoken criticism had re- 
coiled on the innocent cause. She, not Saint Hubert, had 
felt the brunt of his anger. In the innate cruelty of his 
nature it had given him a subtle pleasure to watch the 
bewilderment, alternating with flickering fear, that had 
come back into the deep blue eyes that for two months had 
looked into his with frank confidence. He had made 
her acutely conscious of his displeasure. Only last night, 
when his lack of consideration and his unwonted irritabil- 
ity had made her wince several times during the evening 
and after Saint Hubert had gone to his own tent, he had 


THE SHEIK 


207 

looked up to find her eyes fixed on him with an expres- 
sion that in his dangerous mood, had excited all the 
brutality of which he was capable, and had filled him 
with a desire to torture her. The dumb reproach in her 
eyes had exasperated him, rousing the fiendish temper 
that had been hardly kept in check all the previous week. 
And yet, when he held her helpless in his arms, quivering 
and shrinking from the embrace that was no caress, but 
merely the medium of his anger, and the reproach in her 
wavering eyes changed to mute entreaty, the pleasure he 
had anticipated in her fear had failed him as it had before, 
and had irritated him further. The wild beating of her 
heart, the sobbing intake of her breath, the knowledge of 
his power over her, gave him no gratification, and he had 
flung her from him cursing her savagely, till she had fied 
into the other room with her hands over her ears to shut 
out the sound of his slow, deliberate voice. And this 
morning he had left her without a sign of any kind, no 
word or gesture that might have effaced the memory of 
the previous night. He had not meant to, he had intended 
to go back to her before he finally rode away, but Saint 
Hubert’s refusal to accompany him had killed the softer 
feelings that prompted him, and his rage had flamed up 
again. 

And now ? The longing to hold her in his arms, to kiss 
the tears from her eyes and the colour into her pale lips, 
was almost unbearable. He would give his life to keep 
even a shadow from her path, and she was in the hands of 
Ibraheini Omair I The thought and all that it implied was 
torture, but no sign escaped him of the hell he was en- 
during. The unavoidable delay seemed interminable, and 
he swung into the saddle, hoping that the waiting would 


2o8 


THE SHEIK 


seem less with The Hawk’s restless, nervous body gripped 
between his knees, for though the horse would stand 
quietly with his master beside him, he fretted continually 
at waiting once the Sheik was mounted, and the necessity 
for soothing him was preferable to complete inaction. 

Saint Hubert rose to his feet at last, and, leaving be- 
hind Henri and two Arabs, who were detailed to take the 
wounded man back to the camp, the swift gallop south- 
ward was resumed. On, over the rising and falling 
ground along which Gaston had stumbled, blind and faint 
with loss of blood and the pain of his wounds, past the 
dead body of The Dancer, ghostly white in the moon- 
light, lying a little apart from the semicircle of Arabs that 
proved the efficiency of Gaston’s shooting where Diana 
and he had made their last stand. The Sheik made no 
sign and did not check the headlong gallop, but continued 
on. The Hawk taking the fallen bodies that lay in his 
path in his stride, with only a quiver of repugnance and 
a snort of disgust. Still on, past the huddled bundles of 
tumbled draperies that marked the way significantly, 
avoiding them where the moonlight illuminated brightly, 
and riding over them in the deep hollows, where once 
Raoul’s horse stumbled badly and nearly fell, recovering 
himself with a wild scramble, and the Vicomte heard the 
dead man’s skull crack under the horse’s slipping hoof. 

The distant hovv^ling of jackals came closer and closer 
until, topping one long rise and descending into a hollow 
that was long enough and wide enough to be fully lit by 
the moon, they came to the place where the ambush had 
been laid. Instinctively Ahmed Ben Hassan knew tfiat 
amongst the jostling heaps of corpses and dead horses 
lay the bodies of his own men. Perhaps amongst the 


THE SHEIK 


209 


still forms from which the jackals, whose hideous yelling 
they had heard, had slunk away, there might be one left 
with life enough to give some news. One of his own men 
who would speak willingly, or one of Ibraheim Omair’s 
who would be made to speak. His lips curled back from 
his white teeth in a grin of pure cruelty. 

The silence that had prevailed amongst his men broke 
suddenly as they searched quickly among the dead. The 
Sheik waited impassively, silent amidst the muttered im- 
precations and threats of vengeance of his followers as 
they laid beside him the six remains of what had been 
Diana’s escort, slashed and mutilated almost beyond 
recognition. But it was he who noticed that the last 
terrible figure stirred slightly as it was laid down, and it 
was into his face, grown suddenly strangely gentle, that 
the dying Arab looked with fast-filming eyes. The man 
smiled, the happy smile of a child that had obtained an 
unexpected reward, and raised his hand painfully in 
salute, then pointed mutely to the south. 

The Sheik caught his follower’s nerveless fingers as 
they fell in his own strong grasp, and with a last effort 
the Arab drew his chief’s hand to his forehead and fell 
back dead. 


CHAPTER VIII 


Slowly and painfully, through waves of deadly nausea 
and with the surging of deep waters in her ears, Diana 
struggled back to consciousness. The agony in her head 
was excruciating, and her limbs felt cramped and bruised. 
Recollection was dulled in bodily pain, and, at first, 
thought was merged in physical suffering. But gradu- 
ally the fog cleared from her brain and memory super- 
vened hesitatingly. She remembered fragmentary inci- 
dents of what had gone before the oblivion from which 
she had just emerged. Gaston, and the horror and reso- 
lution in his eyes, the convulsive working of his mouth 
as he faced her at the last moment. Her own dread — 
not of the death that was imminent, but lest the mercy it 
offered should be snatched from her. Then before the 
valet could effect his supreme devotion had come the hail 
of bullets, and he had fallen against her, the blood that 
poured from his wounds saturating her linen coat, and 
rolled over across her feet. She remembered vaguely 
the wild figures hemming her in, but nothing more. 

Her eyes were still shut ; a leaden weight seemed fixed 
on them, and the effort to open them was beyond her 
strength. “ Gaston,’' she whispered feebly, and stretched 
out her hand. But instead of his body or the dry hot 
sand her fingers had expected to encounter they closed 
over soft cushions, and with the shock she sat up with a 
jerk, her eyes staring wide, but, sick and faint, she fell 

3IQ 


THE SHEIK 


2II 


back again, her arm flung across her face, shielding the 
light that pierced like daggers through her throbbing eye- 
balls. For a while she lay still, fighting against the weak- 
ness that overpowered her, and by degrees the horrible 
nausea passed and the agony in her head abated, leaving 
only a dull ache. The desire to know where she was and 
what had happened made her forget her bruised body. 
She moved her arm slightly from before her eyes so that 
she could see, and looked cautiously from under thick 
lashes, screened by the sleeve of her coat. She was lying 
on a pile of cushions in one corner of a small tented apart- 
ment which was otherwise bare, except for the rug that 
covered the floor. In the opposite corner of the tent an 
Arab woman crouched over a little brazier, and the smell 
of native coffee was heavy in the air. She closed her eyes 
again with a shudder. The attempted devotion of Gas- 
ton had been useless. This must be the camp of the rob- 
ber Sheik, Ibraheim Omair. 

She lay still, pressing closely down amongst the cush- 
ions, and clenching the sleeve of her jacket between her 
teeth to stifle the groan that rose to her lips. A lump 
came into her throat as she thought of Gaston. In those 
last moments all inequality of rank had been swept away 
in their common peril — they had been only a white man 
and a white woman together in their extremity. She re- 
membered how, when she had pressed close to him, his 
hand had sought and gripped hers, conveying courage and 
sympathy. All that he could do he had done, he had 
shielded her body with his own, it must have been over 
his lifeless body that they had taken her. He had proved 
his faithfulness, sacrificing his life for his master’s play- 
thing. Gaston was in all probability dead, but she was 


212 


THE SHEIK 


alive, and she must husband her strength for her own 
needs. She forced the threatening emotion down, and, 
with an effort, controlled the violent shivering in her 
limbs, and sat up slowly, looking at the Arab woman, 
who, hearing her move, turned to gaze at her. Instantly 
Diana realised that there was no help or compassion to 
be expected from her. She was a handsome woman, 
who must have been pretty as a girl, but there was no sign 
of softness in her sullen face and vindictive eyes. In- 
stinctively Diana felt that the glowing menace of the 
woman’s expression was inspired by personal hatred, and 
that her presence in the tent was objectionable to her. 
And the feeling gave a necessary spur to the courage that 
was fast coming back to her. She stared with all the 
haughtiness she could summon to her aid ; she had learned 
her own power among the natives of India the previous 
year, and here in the desert there was only one Arab 
whose eyes did not fall beneath hers, and presently with 
a muttered word the woman turned back to her coffee- 
making. 

Diana’s muscles relaxed and she sat back easily on the 
cushions, the little passage of wills had restored her con- 
fidence in herself. She moved her hand and it brushed 
against her iacket, coming away stained and sticky, and 
she noticec or the first time that all one side and sleeve 
were soakeu with blood. She ripped it off with a shudder 
and flung it from her, rubbing the red smear from her 
hands with a kind of horror. 

The little tent was intensely hot, and there was a close, 
pungent smell that was eminently native that she never 
experienced in the cool airiness and scrupulous cleanliness 
of Ahmed Ben Hassan’s tents. Her sensitive lip curled 


THE SHEIK 


213 

with disgust, all her innate fastidiousness in revolt. The 
heat aggravated a burning thirst that was parching her 
throat. She got up on to her feet slowly, and with in- 
finite caution, to prevent any jar that might start again 
the throbbing in her head ; but the effects of the blow were 
wearing off, and, though her head continued to ache, it 
did no more than that, and the sick, giddy feeling had 
gone completely. She crossed the tent to the side of the 
Arab woman. 

Give me some water,” she said in French, but the 
woman shook her head without looking up. Diana re- 
peated the request in Arabic, one of the few sentences she 
knew without stumbling. This time the woman rose up 
hastily and held out a cup of the coffee she had been 
making. 

Diana hated the sweet, thick stuff, but it would do until 
she could get the water she wanted, and she put out her 
hand to take the little cup. But her eyes met the other’s 
fixed on her, and something in their malignant stare made 
her pause. A sudden suspicion shot through her mind. 
The coffee was drugged. What beyond the woman’s ex- 
pression made her think so she did not know, but she was 
sure of it. She put the cup aside impatiently. 

“ No. Not coffee. Water,” she said firmly. 

Before she realised what was happening the woman 
thrust a strong arm round her and forced the cup to her 
lips. That confirmed Diana’s suspicions and rage lent her 
additional strength. The woman was strong, but Diana 
was stronger, younger and more active. She dashed the 
cup to the floor, spilling its contents, and, with an effort, 
tore the clinging hands from her and sent the woman 
crashing on to the ground, rolling against the brazier, over- 


214 


THE SHEIK 


setting it, and scattering brass pots and cups over the rug. 
The woman scrambled to her knees and beat out the 
glowing embers, uttering scream after scream in a shrill, 
piercing voice. And, in answer to her cries, a curtain at 
the side of the tent, that Diana had not noticed, slid 
aside and a gigantic Nubian came in. With outstretched 
hand shaking with rage, pointing at Diana, she burst into 
voluble abuse, punctuating every few words with the 
shrieks that had brought the negro. 

Diana could understand nothing of what she said, but 
her expressive gestures told the story of the struggle 
plainly enough. The Nubian listened with white teeth 
flashing in a broad grin, and shook his head in response to 
some request urged with denunciatory fist. He picked 
up the last remaining embers that had scattered on the 
rug, rubbing the smouldering patches till they were ex- 
tinguished, and then turned to leave the room. But 
Diana called him back. She went a step forward, her 
head high, and looked him straight in the face. 

“ Fetch me water ! ’’ she said imperiously. He pointed 
to the coffee that the woman had recommenced to make, 
her back turned to them, but Diana stamped her foot. 
“ Water ! Bring me water ! ” she said again, more im- 
periously than before. With a wider grin the negro 
made a gesture of acquiescence and went out, returning 
in a few moments with a water-skin. 

The thought of its condition made her hesitate for a 
moment, but only for a moment. Her thirst was too 
great to allow niceties to interfere with it. She picked 
up one of the clean coffee-cups that had rolled to her feet, 
rinsed it several times, and then drank. The water was 
warm and slightly brackish, but she needed it too much to 


THE SHEIK 


«IS 

mind. In spite of being tepid it relieved the dry, suffocat- 
ing feeling in her throat and refreshed her. The Nubian 
went away again, leaving the woman still crouching over 
the brazier. 

Diana walked back to the cushions and dropped down 
on to them gladly. The events of the last few moments 
had tried her more than she realised, her legs were shak- 
ing under her, and she was thankful to sit down. But her 
courage had risen with a bound; the fact that she was 
physically stronger than the woman who had been put to 
guard her, and also that she had gained her point with 
the burly negro, had a great moral effect on her, further 
restoring her confidence in herself. 

Her position was an appalling one, but hope was strong 
within her. The fact that since she had regained con- 
sciousness she had seen only the woman and the Nubian 
seemed to argue that Ibraheim Omair must be absent from 
his camp ; the thought that he might purposely be delaying 
the moment of inspecting his captive with a view to pro- 
longing her mental torture she put from her as improbable. 
She did not credit him with so much acumen. And from 
his absence her courage gained strength. If it could only 
be prolonged until Ahmed reached her. That the Sheik 
would come she knew, her faith in him was unbounded. 
If he only came in time! Hours had passed since the 
ambuscade had surprised them. It had been early after- 
noon then. Now the lighted lamp told her it was night. 
How late she did not know. Her watch had been broken 
some months before, and she had no means of even guess- 
ing the hour, but it must be well on in the evening. By 
now the absence of herself and Gaston and their escort 
would be discovered. He would know her peril and he 


2i6 


THE SHEIK 


would come to her. Of that she had no doubt. Although 
he had changed so strangely in the last few days, though 
the wonderful gentleness of the last two months had 
merged again into indifference and cruelty, still she never 
doubted. Even if desire had passed and indifference had 
become so great that she was no longer necessary to him, 
still the Oriental jealousy with which he was so deeply 
imbued would never allow him to let her pass so lightly 
from his keeping. He might discard her at his own 
pleasure, but no one would take her from him with im- 
punity. Her woman’s intuition had sensed the jealousy 
that had actuated him during the unhappy days since 
Saint Hubert had come. An inconsistent jealousy that 
had been unprovoked and unjustified, but for which she 
had suffered. She had known last night, when she 
winced under his sarcastic tongue, and later, when Saint 
Hubert had left them and his temper had suddenly boiled 
over, that she was paying for the unaccustomed strain 
that he was putting on his own feelings. His curses had 
eaten into her heart, and she had fled from him to stifle 
the coward instinct that urged her to confess her love and 
beg his mercy. She had lain awake with shivering appre- 
hension waiting for him, but when, after nearly twc hours, 
he had sauntered in, the usual cigarette between his lips, 
indifference had taken the place of rage, and he had 
ignored her, as she had grown used to being ignored. 
And long after she knew from his even breathing that he 
was asleep she had lain wide-eyed beside him, grasping at 
what happiness she could, living for the moment as she 
had schooled herself to live, trying to be content with just 
the fact of his nearness. And the indifference of the 
night had been maintained when he had left her at dawn, 


THE SHEIK 


217 


his persistent silence pointing the continuance of his dis- 
pleasure. But he would come, if for no other reason 
than the same jealousy which held him in its inexorable 
grip. He would come ! He would come ! She whis- 
pered it over to herself as if merely the sound of the 
words gave her courage. He would not let anything hap- 
pen to her. Every moment that Ibraheim Omair stayed 
away was so much gained, every moment he would be 
coming nearer. The reversal of the role he played in her 
life brought a quivering smile to her lips. For the advent 
of the man who a few weeks before she had loathed for 
his brutal abduction of herself she now prayed with the 
desperation of despair. He represented safety, salvation, 
everything that made life worth living. 

A sudden noise and men^s voices in the adjoining room 
sent her to her feet with heaving breast and clenched 
hands. But the sharp, guttural voice predominating over 
the other voices killed the wild hope that had sprung up 
in her by its utter dissimilarity to the soft low tones for 
which she longed. Ibraheim Omair ! He had come first ! 
She set her teeth with a long, shuddering breath, bracing 
herself to meet what was coming. 

The Arab woman turned to look at her again with a 
sneering smile that was full of significance, but beyond a 
fleeting glance of disdain Diana paid no attention to her. 
She stood rigid, one foot beating nervously into the soft 
rug. She noticed irrelevantly at the moment that both 
her spurs and the empty holster had been removed whilst 
she was unconscious, and with the odd detachment that 
transfers a train of thought from the centre of importance 
even at a supreme moment, she wondered, with an annoy- 
ance that seemed curiously futile, why it had been done. 


2i8 


THE SHEIK 


The voices in the next room continued, until Diana 
almost prayed for the moment she was waiting for would 
come ; suspense was worse than the ordeal for which she 
was nerving herself. It came at last. The curtain slid 
aside again, and the same huge negro she had seen before 
entered. He came towards her, and her breath hissed in 
suddenly between her set teeth, but before he reached her 
the Arab woman intercepted him, blocking his way, and 
with wild eyes and passionate gestures poured out a 
stream of low, frenzied words. The Nubian turned on 
her impatiently and thrust her roughly out of his way, 
and, coming to Diana, put out his hand as if to grasp her 
arm, but she stepped back with flashing eyes and a gesture 
that he obeyed. 

Her heart was pounding, but she had herself under con- 
trol. Only her hands twitched, her long fingers curling 
and uncurling spasmodically, and she buried them deep 
in her breeches’ pockets to hide them. She walked slowly 
to the curtain and nodded to the Nubian to draw it aside, 
and slower still she passed into the other room. Only a 
little larger than the one she had left, almost as bare, but 
her mind took in these things uncomprehendingly, for all 
her attention was focussed on the central figure in the 
room. 

Ibraheim Omair, the robber Sheik, lolling his great bulk 
on a pile of cushions, a little inlaid stool with coffee be- 
side him, and behind him, standing motionless as if 
formed of bronze, two other negroes, so like the one that 
had summoned her that they seemed like statues that had 
been cast from one mould. 

Diana paused for a moment framed in the entrance, 


THE SHEIK 


219 


then, with head thrown back and swaggering, boyish stride, 
she moved across the thick rugs leisurely and halted in 
front of the chief, looking straight at him with haughty, 
curling lips and insolent, half-closed eyes. The hold she 
was exercising over herself was tremendous, her body 
was rigid with the effort, and her hands deep down in 
her pockets clenched till the nails bit into the palms. 
Every instinct was rebelling against the calm she forced 
upon herself. She longed to scream and make a dash 
for the opening that she guessed was behind her, and to 
take her chance in the darkness outside. But she knew 
that such a chance was impossible; if she ever reached 
the open air she would never be allowed to get more than 
a few steps from the tent. Her only course lay in the 
bravado that alone kept her from collapse. She must 
convey the impression of fearlessness, though cold terror 
was knocking at her heart. Masked with indifference her 
veiled eyes were watching the robber chief closely. This 
was, indeed, the Arab of her imaginings, this gross, un- 
wieldy figure lying among the tawdry cushions, his swol- 
len, ferocious face seamed and lined with every mark 
of vice, his full, sensual lips parted and showing broken, 
blackened teeth, his deep-set, bloodshot eyes with a look 
in them that it took all her resolution to sustain, a look 
of such bestial evilness that the horror of it bathed her in 
perspiration. His appearance was slovenly, his robes, 
originally rich, were stained and tumbled, the fat hands 
lying spread out on his knees were engrained with dirt, 
showing even against his dark skin. His heavy face lit 
up with a gleam of malicious satisfaction as Diana came 
towards him, his loose mouth broadened in a wicked 


220 


THE SHEIK 


smile. He leaned forward a little, weighing heavily on 
the hands that were on his knees, his eyes roving slowly 
over her till they rested on her face again. 

“ So ! the white woman of my brother Ahmed Ben 
Hassan,” he said slowly, in villainous French, with a sud- 
den, snarling intonation as he uttered his enemy’s name. 

Ahmed Ben Hassan ! May Allah burn his soul in hell ! ** 
he added with relish, and spat contemptuously. 

He leaned back on the cushions with a grunt, and 
drank some coffee noisily. 

Diana kept her eyes fixed on him, and under their un- 
wavering stare he seemed to be uneasy, his own inflamed 
eyes wandering ceaselessly over her, one hand fumbling 
at the curved hilt of a knife stuck in his belt, and at last 
he grew exasperated, hitching himself forward once more 
and beckoning her to come nearer to him. She hesitated, 
and as she paused uncertainly, there was a flutter of 
draperies behind her, and the Arab woman from the inner 
room, evading the negro who stepped forward to stop her, 
flung herself at the feet of Ibraheim Omair, clinging to 
his knees with a low wailing cry. In a flash Diana realised 
the meaning of the hatred that had gleamed in the woman’s 
eyes earlier in the evening. To her she was a rival, whose 
coming to share the favours of her lord had aroused all 
the jealousy of the reigning favourite. A wave of dis- 
gust mingled with the fear that was torturing her. She 
jerked her head angrily, fighting against the terror that 
was growing on her, and for a moment her lashes drooped 
and hid her eyes. When she looked up again the woman 
was still crouched at the old Arab’s feet, imploring and 
distraught. 

Ibraheim Omair looked down on her curiously, his lips 


THE SHEIK 


22i 


drawn back from his blackened teeth in an evil grin, and 
then shook her off violently with a swift blow in the 
mouth, but the woman clung closer, with upturned, des- 
perate face, a thin trickle of blood oozing from her lips, 
and with a hoarse growl that was like the dull roar of a 
savage beast the robber chief caught her by the throat 
and held her for a moment, her frantic, clutching hands 
powerless against his strong grasp, then slowly drew the 
long knife from the ample folds of his waist-cloth, and as 
slowly drove it home into the strangling woman’s breast 
With savage callousness, before he released his hold of 
her, he wiped the stained knife carefully on her clothing 
and replaced it, and then flung the dead body from 
him. It rolled over on the rug midway between him and 
Diana. 

There was a momentary silence in the room, and Diana 
became conscious of a muffled, rhythmical beat near her, 
like the ticking of a great clock, and realised with dull 
wonder that it was her own heart beating. She seemed 
turned to stone, petrified with the horror of the last few 
moments. Her eyes were glued to the still figure on the 
rug before her with the gaping wound in the breast, from 
which the blood was welling, staining the dark draperies 
of the woman’s clothes, and creeping slowly down to the 
rug on which the body lay. She was dazed, and odd 
thoughts flitted through her mind. It was a pity, she 
thought stupidly, that the blood should spoil the rug. It 
was a lovely rug. She wondered what it would have cost 
in Biskra — less, probably, than it would in London. 
Then she forgot the rug as her eyes travelled upward to 
the woman’s face. The mouth was open and the streak 
of blood was drying, but it was the eyes, protruding, agon- 


223 


THE SHEIK 


ised, that brought Diana abruptly to herself. She seemed 
to wake suddenly to the full realisation of what had hap- 
pened and to her own peril. She felt physically sick for 
a* moment, but she fought it down. Very slowly she 
raised her head, and, meeting Ibraheim Omair’s eyes fixed 
on her, she looked full at him across the dead woman’s 
body and laughed! It was that or shriek. The curls 
were clinging drenched on her forehead, and she won- 
dered if her clenched hands would ever unclose. She 
must make no sign, she must not scream or faint, she 
must keep her nerve until Ahmed came. Oh, dear God, 
send him quickly! The laugh wavered hysterically, and 
she caught her lip between her teeth. She must do some- 
thing to distract her attention from that awful still shape 
at her feet. Almost unconsciously she grasped the cig- 
arette case in her pocket and -took it out, dragging her 
eyes from the horrible sight on which they were fixed, and 
chose and lit a cigarette with slow care, flicking the still- 
burning match on to the carpet between the feet of the 
negro who stood near her. He had not moved since he 
had failed ta stop the woman’s entrance, and the two sta- 
tioned behind the pile of cushions had stood motionless, 
their eyes hardly following the tragedy enacted before 
them. At a nod from the chief they came now and car- 
ried away the body of the woman. One returned in a 
moment, bringing fresh coffee, and then vanished noise- 
lessly. 

Then Ibraheim Omair leaned forward with a horrible 
leer and beckoned to Diana, patting the cushions beside 
him. Mastering the loathing that filled her she sat down 
with all the unconcern she could assume. The proximity 
of the man nauseated her. He reeked of sweat and 


THE SHEIK 


223 

grease and ill-kept horses, the pungent stench of the 
native. Her thoughts went back to the other Arab, of 
whose habits she had been forced into such an intimate 
knowledge. Remembering all that she had heard of the 
desert people she had been surprised at the fastidious care 
he took of himself, the frequent bathing, the spotless 
cleanliness of his robes, the fresh wholesomeness that 
clung about him, the faint, clean smell of shaving-soap 
mingling with the perfume of the Turkish tobacco that 
was always associated with him. 

The contrast was hideous. 

She refused the coffee he offered her with a shake of 
her head, paying no attention to his growl of protest, not 
even understanding it, for he spoke in Arabic. As she 
laid down the end of her cigarette with almost the feeling 
of letting go a sheet anchor — for it had at least kept her 
lips from trembling — his fat hand closed about her 
wrist and he jerked her towards him. 

How many rifles did the Frenchman bring to that son 
of darkness ? ” he said harshly. 

She turned her head, surprised at the question, and 
met his bloodshot eyes fixed on hers, half -menacing, half- 
admiring, and looked away again hastily. “ I do not 
know.” 

His fingers tightened on her wrist. ‘‘ How many men 
had Ahmed Ben Hassan in the camp in which he kept 
you?” 

“ I do not know.” 

** I do not know ! I do not know ! ” he echoed with a 
sudden savage laugh. You will know when I have done 
with you.” He crushed her wrist until she winced with 
pain, and turned her head away further that she might not 


THE SHEIK 


224 

see his face. Question after question relating to the Sheik 
and his tribe followed in rapid succession, but to all of 
them Diana remained silent, with averted head and com- 
pressed lips. He should not learn anything from her that 
might injure the man she loved, though he tortured her, 
though her life paid the price of her silence, as it probably 
would. She shivered involuntarily. “ Shall I tell you 
what they would do to him ? " She could hear the Sheik’s 
voice plainly as on the night when she had asked him what 
Gaston’s fate would be at the hands of Ibraheim Omair. 
She could hear the horrible meaning he had put into the 
words, she could see the terrible smile that had accom- 
panied them. Her breath came faster, but her courage 
still held. She clung desperately to the hope that was sus- 
taining her. Ahmed must come in time. She forced 
down the torturing doubts that whispered that he might 
never find her, that he might come too late, that when he 
came she might be beyond a man’s desire. 

Ibraheim Omair ceased his questioning. “ Later you 
will speak,” he said significantly, and drank more coffee. 
And his words revived the agonising thoughts she had 
crushed down. Her vivid imagination conjured up the 
same ghastly mental pictures that had appalled her when 
she had applied them to Gaston, but now it was herself 
who was the central figure in all the horrors she imagined, 
until the shuddering she tried to suppress shook her from 
head to foot, and she clenched her teeth to stop them 
chattering. 

Ibraheim Omair kept his hold upon her, and presently, 
with a horrible loathing, she felt his hand passing over her 
arm, her neck, and down the soft curves of her slim young 


THE SHEIK 


225 

body, then with a muttered ejaculation he forced her to 
face him. 

“ What are you listening for? You think that Ahmed 
Ben Hassan will come? Little fool! He has forgotten 
you already. There are plenty more white women in 
Algiers and Oran that he can buy with his gold and his 
devil face. The loves of Ahmed Ben Hassan are as the 
stars in number. They come and go like the swift wind 
in the desert, a hot breath — and it’s finished. He will 
not come, and if he does, he will not find you, for in an 
hour we shall be gone.” 

Diana writhed in his grasp. The hateful words in the 
guttural voice, pronounced in vile P'rench, the leering, 
vicious face with the light of admiration growing in the 
bloodshot eyes, were all a ghastly nightmare. With a 
sudden desperate wrench she freed herself and fled across 
the tent — panic-stricken at last. But in her blind rush 
she tripped, and with a swiftness that seemed incom- 
patible with his unwieldiness Ihraheim Omair followed 
her and caught her in his arms. Struggling he carried 
her to the divan. For a moment he paused, and in- 
stinctively Diana lay still, reserving her strength for the 
final struggle. 

One hour, my little gazelle, one hour ” he said 

hoarsely, and bent his face to hers. 

With a cry Diana flung her head aside and strained 
away from him, fighting with the strength of madness. 
She fought like a boy with a swift thought of gratitude 
for Aubrey’s training, and twisting and writhing she 
managed to slip through his grasp until her feet rested on 
the ground. But his grip on her never relaxed; he 


226 


THE SHEIK 


dragged her back to him, resisting fiercely, ripping the thin 
shirt from her shoulders, baring her white, heaving bosonx 
Gasping, she struggled, until, little by little, liis arms 
closed round her again. She braced her hands against his 
chest, fending him from her till she felt the muscles in her 
arms must crack, but the crushing force of his whole 
weight was bearing her steadily backwards, and down- 
wards on to the soft cushions beside them. His hot 
breath was on her face, the sickening reek of his clothes 
was in her nostrils. She felt her resistance growing 
weaker, h^ heart was labouring, beating with wild bounds 
that suffocated her, the strength was going from her arms, 
only a moment more and her force would be exhausted. 
Her brain was growing numbed, as it had been when the 
man who held her had murdered the woman before her 
eyes. If he would only kill her now. Death would be 
easy compared with this. The faint hope that still lin- 
gered was almost extinguished. Ahmed had not come, 
and in her agony the thought of him was a further tor- 
ture. The sneering words of Ibraheim Omair had not 
shaken her faith. He would come, but he would come 
too late. He would never know now that she ^oved him. 
Oh, God! How she loved him! Ahmed! Ahmed! 
And with the soundless cry the last remnant of her 
strength went all at once, and she fell weakly against the 
chief. He forced her to her knees, and, with his hand 
twined brutally in her curls, thrust her head back. There 
was a mad light in his eyes and a foam on his lips as 
he dragged the knife from his waistbelt and laid the keen 
edge against her throat. She did not flinch, and after a 
moment he dropped it with a horrible laugh. 

“ No, afterwards,” he said, and picked her up unresist- 


THE SHEIK 


227 

ingly. He flung her on the cushions and for one awful 
moment she felt his hands on her. Then from outside 
came a sudden uproar and the sharp crack of rifles. 
Then in a lull in the firing the Sheik's powerful voice: 
“ Diane ! Diane ! ” 

His voice and the knowledge of his nearness gave her 
new strength. She leaped up in spite of Ibraheim 
Omair’s gripping hands. Ahmed ! ” she screamed once, 
then the chiefs hand dashed against her mouth, but, fran- 
tic, she caught it in her teeth, biting it to the bone, and as 
he wrenched it away, shrieked again, ‘‘ Ahmed ! 
Ahmed ! " 

But it seemed impossible that her voice could be heard 
above the demoniacal noise outside the tent, and she could 
not call again, for, with a snarl of rage, the chief caught 
her by the throat as he had caught the Arab woman. 
And like the Arab woman her hands tore at his gripping 
fingers vainly. Choking, stifling with the agony in her 
throat, her lungs seemed bursting, the blood was beating 
in her ears like the deafening roar of waves, and the room 
was darkening with the film that was creeping over her 
eyes. Her hands fell powerless to her sides and her knees 
gave way limply. He was holding her upright only by 
the clutch on her throat. The drumming in her ears grew 
louder, the tent was fading away into blackness. Dimly, 
with no kind of emotion, she realised that he was squeez- 
ing the life out of her and she heard his voice coming, as 
it were, from a great distance : “You will not languish 
long in Hawiyat without your lover. I will send him 
quickly to you." 

She was almost unconscious, but she heard the sneering 
voice break suddenly and the deadly pressure on her throat 


228 


THE SHEIK 


relaxed as the chief’s hands rapidly transferred their 
grip to her aching shoulders, swinging her away from him 
and in front of him. To lift her head was agony, and 
the effort brought back the black mist that had lessened 
with the slackening of Ibraheim Omair’s fingers round her 
neck, but it cleared again sufficiently for her to see. 
through a blurring haze, the outline of the tall figure that 
was facing her, standing by the ripped-back doorway. 

There was a pause, a silence that contrasted oddly with 
the tumult outside, and Diana wondered numbly why 
the Sheik did nothing, why he did not use the revolver 
that was clenched in his hand Then slowly she under- 
stood that he dared not fire, that the chief was holding 
her, a living shield, before him, sheltering himself behind 
the only thing that would deter Ahmed Ben Hassan’s 
unerring shots. Cautiously Ibraheim Omair moved 
backward, still holding her before him, hoping to. gain the 
inner room. But in the shock of his enemy’s sudden ap- 
pearance he miscalculated the position of the divan and 
stumbled against it, losing his balance for only a moment, 
but long enough to give the man whose revolver covered 
him the chance he wanted. With the cold ring of steel 
pressing against his forehead the robber chief’s hands 
dropped from Diana, and she slid weak and trembling on 
to the rug, clasping her pulsating throat, moaning with 
the effort that it was to breathe. 

For a moment the two men looked into each other’s 
eyes and the knowledge of death leaped into Ibraheim 
Omair’s. With the fatalism of his creed he made no 
resistance, as, with a slow, terrible smile, the Sheik’s left 
hand reached out and fastened on his throat. It would 
be quicker to shoot, but as Diana had suffered so should 


THE SHEIK 


229 


¥ier torturer die. All the savagery in his nature rose 
uppermost. Beside the pitiful, gasping little figure on the 
rug at his feet there was the memory of six mutilated 
bodies, his faithful followers, men of his own age who 
had grown to manhood with him, picked men of his 
personal bodyguard who had been intimately connected 
with him all his life, and who had served him with devo- 
tion and unwavering obedience. They and others who 
had from time to time fallen victims to Ibraheim Omair^s 
hatred of his more powerful enemy. The man who was 
responsible for their deaths was in his power at last, the 
man whose existence was a menace and whose life was 
an offence, of whose subtleties he had been trained from 
a boy to beware by the elder Ahmed Ben Hassan, who had 
bequeathed to him the tribal hatred of the race of whom 
Ibraheim Omair was head, and whose dying words had 
been the wish that his successor might himself exterminate 
the hereditary enemy. But far beyond the feelings in- 
spired by tribal hatred or the remembrance of the vow 
made five years ago beside the old Sheik's deathbed, or 
even the death of his own followers, was the desire to 
kill, with his bare hands, the man who had tortured the 
woman he loved. The knowledge of her peril, that had 
driven him headlong through the night to her aid, the 
sight of her helpless, agonised, in the robber chief’s hands, 
had filled him with a madness that only the fierce joy of 
killing would cure. Before he could listen to the clamour- 
ing of the new love in his heart, before he could gather up 
into his arms the beloved little body that he was yearning 
for, he had to destroy the man whose murders were count- 
less and who had at last fallen into his hands. 

The smile on his face deepened and his fingers tightened 


230 


THE SHEIK 


slowly on their hold. But with the strangling clasp of 
Ahmed Ben Hassan’s hands upon him the love of life 
waked again in Ibraheim Omair and he struggled fiercely. 
Crouched on the floor Diana watched the two big figures 
swaying in mortal combat with wide, fearful eyes, her 
hands still holding her aching throat. Ibraheim Omair 
wrestled for his life, conscious of his own strength, but 
conscious also of the greater strength that was opposed 
to him. The Sheik let go the hold upon his throat and 
with both arms locked about him manoeuvred to get the 
position he required, back to the divan. Then, with a 
wrestler’s trick, he swept Ibraheim’s feet from under him 
and sent his huge body sprawling on to the cushions, his 
knee on his enemy’s chest, his hands on his throat. With 
all his weight crushing into the chief’s breast, with the 
terrible smile always on his lips, he choked him slowly to 
death, till the dying man’s body arched and writhed in his 
last agony, till the blood burst from his nose and mouth, 
pouring over the hands that held him like a vice. 

Diana’s eyes never left the Sheik’s face, she felt the 
old paralysing fear of him rushing over her, irresistibly 
drowning for the moment even the love she had for him. 
She had seen him in cruel, even savage moods, but nothing 
that had ever approached the look of horrible pleasure 
that was on his face now. It was a revelation of the real 
man with the thin layer of civilisation stripped from him, 
leaving only the primitive savage drunk with the lust of 
blood. And she was afraid, with a shuddering horror, of 
the merciless, crimson-stained hands that would touch her, 
of the smiling, cruel mouth that would be pressed on hers, 
and of the murderous light shining in his fierce eyes. 
But for the dying wretch expiating his crimes so hideously 


THE SHEIK 


231 

she felt no pity, he was beyond all sympathy. She had 
seen him murder wantonly, and she knew what her own 
fate would have been if Ahmed Ben Hassan had not 
come. And the retribution was swift. The Sheik was 
being more merciful to him than the robber chief had been 
to many, a few moments of agony instead of hours of 
lingering torture. 

The noise outside the tent was growing louder as the 
fighting rolled back in its direction, and once or twice a 
bullet ripped through the hangings. One that came 
closer than the others made Diana turn her head and she 
saw what Ahmed Ben Hassan, absorbed in the fulfilment 
of his horrible task, had not even thought of — the three 
big negroes and a dozen Arabs who had stolen in silently 
from the inner room. For once, in the intoxication of 
the moment, the Sheik was careless and caught off his 
guard. Agony leaped into her eyes. The fear of him 
was wiped out in the fear for him. She tried to warn 
him, but no sound would come from her throbbing throat, 
and she crawled nearer to him and touched him. He 
dropped the dead chief back into the tumbled cushions and 
looked up swiftly, and at the same moment Ibraheim 
Omair’s men made a rush. Without a word he thrust her 
behind the divan and turned to meet them. Before his 
revolver they gave way for a moment, but the burly 
Nubians behind swept the Arabs forward. Three times 
he fired and one of the negroes and two Arabs fell, but 
the rest hurled themselves on him, and Diana saw him 
surrounded. His strength was abnormal, and for some 
minutes the struggling mass of men strained and heaved 
about him. Diana was on her feet, swaying giddily, 
powerless to help him, cold with dread. Then above the 


232 


THE SHEIK 


clamour that was raging inside and out she heard Saint 
Hubert’s voice shouting, and with a shriek that seemed to 
rip her tortured throat she called to him. The Sheik, 
too, heard, and with a desperate effort for a moment won 
clear, but one of the Nubians was behind him, and, as 
Saint Hubert and a crowd of the Sheik’s own men poured 
in through the opening, he brought down a heavy club 
with crashing force on Ahmed Ben Hassan’s head, and 
as he fell another drove a broad knife deep into his back. 
For a few minutes more the tramping feet surged back- 
ward and forward over the Sheik’s prostrate body. 
Diana tried to get to him, faint and stumbling, flung here 
and there by the fighting, struggling men, until a strong 
hand caught her and drew her aside. She strained 
against the detaining arm, but it was one of Ahmed’s men, 
and she gave in as a growing faintness came over her. 
Mistily she saw Saint Hubert clear a way to his friend’s 
side, and then she fainted, but only for a few moments. 
Saint Hubert was still on his knees beside the Sheik when 
she opened her eyes, and the tent was quite quiet, filled 
with tribesmen waiting in stoical silence. The camp of 
Ibraheim Omair had been wiped out, but Ahmed Ben 
Hassan’s men looked only at the unconscious figure of 
their leader. 

Saint Hubert glanced up hastily as Diana came to his 
side. ‘‘You are all right?” he asked anxiously, but she 
did not answer. What did it matter about her? 

“ Is he going to die ? ” she said huskily, for speaking 
still hurt horribly. 

“ I don’t know — but we must get away from here. I 
need more appliances than I have with me, and we are 
too few to stay and risk a possible attack if there are 


THE SHEIK 


233 


others of Ibraheim Omair’s men in the neighbourhood.” 

Diana looked down on the wounded man fearfully. 
“ But the ride — the jolting,” she gasped. 

‘‘ It has got to be risked,” replied Saint Hubert abruptly. 

Of the long, terrible journey back to Ahmed Ben Has- 
san’s camp Diana never remembered very much. It was 
an agony of dread and apprehension, of momentary wait- 
ing for some word or exclamation from the powerful 
Arab who was holding him, or from Saint Hubert, who 
was riding beside him, that would mean his death, and of 
momentary respites from fear and faint glimmerings of 
hope as the minutes dragged past and the word she was 
dreading did not come. Once a sudden halt seemed to 
stop her heart beating, but it was only to give a moment’s 
rest to the Arab whose strength was taxed to the uttermost 
with the Sheik’s inert weight, but who refused to sur- 
render his privilege to any other. Moments of semi- 
unconsciousness, when she swayed against the arm of 
the watchful tribesman riding beside her, and his muttered 
ejaculation of Allah! Allah!” sent a whispered suppli- 
cation to her own lips to the God they both worshipped 
so differently. He must not die. God would not be so 
cruel. 

From time to time Saint Hubert spoke to her, and the 
quiet courage of his voice steadied her breaking nerves. 
As they passed the scene of the ambuscade he told her of 
Gaston. It was there that the first band of waiting men 
met them, warned already of their coming by a couple of 
Arabs whom the Vicomte had sent on in advance with the 
news. 

The dawn was breaking when they reached the camp. 
Diana had a glimpse of rows of unusually silent men 


THE SHEIK 


234. 

grouped beside the tent, but all her mind was concentrated 
on the long, limp figure that was being carefully lifted 
down from the sweating horse. They carried him into the 
tent and laid him on the divan, beside which Henri 
had already put out all the implements that his master 
would need. 

While Saint Hubert, with difficulty, cleared the tent of 
the Sheik's men Diana stood beside the divan and looked 
at him. He was soaked in blood that had burst through 
the temporary bandages, and his whole body bore evi- 
dence of the terrible struggle that had gone before the 
blow that had felled him. One blood-covered hand hung 
down almost touching the rug. Diana lifted it in her 
own, and the touch of the nerveless fingers sent a sob into 
her throat. She caught her lip between her teeth to stop 
it trembling as she laid his hand down on the cushions. 
Saint Hubert came to her, rolling up his shirt-sleeves sig- 
nificantly. 

Diane, you have been through enough," he said gently. 

Go and rest while I do what I can for Ahmed. I will 
come and tell you as soon as I am finished." 

She looked up fiercely. “ It's no good telling me to go 
away, because I won't. I must help you. I can help 
you. I shall go mad if you don't let m*e do something. 
See! My hands are quite steady." She held them out 
as she spoke, and Saint Hubert gave in without opposition. 

The weakness that had sent her trembling into his arms 
the day before had been the fear of danger to the man she 
loved, but in the face of actual need the courage that was 
so much a part of her nature did not fail her. He made 
no more remonstrances, but set about his work quickly. 
And all through the horrible time that followed she did 


THE SHEIK 


235 

not falter. Her face was deadly pale, and dark lines 
showed below her eyes, but her hands did not shake, and 
her voice was low and even. She suffered horribly. The 
terrible wound that the Nubian’s knife had made was 
like a wound in her own heart. She winced as if the 
hurt had been her own when Saint Hubert’s gentle, dex- 
terous fingers touched the Sheik’s bruised head. And 
when it was over and Raoul had turned aside to wash his 
hands, she slipped on to her knees beside him. Would 
he live ? The courage that had kept her up so far had not 
extended to asking Saint Hubert again, and a few mut- 
tered words from Henri, to which the Vicomte had re- 
sponded with only a shrug, had killed the words that 
were hovering on her lips. She looked at him with 
anguished eyes. 

Only a few hours before he had come to her in all the 
magnificence of his strength. She looked at the long 
limbs lying now so still, so terribly, suggestively still, 
and her lips trembled again, but her pain-filled eyes were 
dry. She could not cry, only her throat ached and 
throbbed perpetually. She leaned over him whispering 
his name, and a sudden hunger came to her to touch him, 
to convince herself that he was not dead. She glanced 
back over her shoulder at Saint Hubert, but he had gone 
to the open doorway to speak to Yusef, and was standing 
out under the awning. She bent lower over the uncon- 
scious man; his lips were parted slightly, and the usual 
sternness of his mouth was relaxed. 

Ahmed, oh, my dear ! ” she whispered unsteadily, and 
kissed him with lips that quivered against the stillness of 
his. Then for a moment she dropped her bright head 
beside the "bandaged one on the pillow, but when the 


THE SHEIK 


236 

Vicomte came back she was kneeling where he had left 
her, her hands clasped over one of the Sheik’s and her 
face hidden against the cushions. 

Saint Hubert put his hand on her shoulder. “ Diane, 
you are torturing yourself unnecessarily. We cannot 
know for some time how it will go with him. Try and get 
some sleep for a few hours. You can do no good by 
staying here. Henri and I will watch. I will call you if 
there is any change, my word of honour.’* 

She shook her head without looking up. “ I can’t go. 
I couldn’t sleep.” 

Saint Hubert did not press it. “Very well,” he said 
quietly, “ but if yoU are going to stay you must take off 
your riding-boots and put on something more comfortable 
than those clothes.” 

She realised the sense of what he was saying, and 
obeyed him without a word. She even had to admit to 
herself a certain sensation of relief after she had bathed 
her aching head and throat, and substituted a thin, silk 
wrap for the torn, stained riding-suit. 

Henri was pouring out coffee when she came back, and 
Saint Hubert turned to her with a cup in his outstretched 
hand. “ Please take it. It will do you good,” he said, 
with a little smile that was not reflected in his anxious 
eyes. 

She took it unheeding, and, swallowing it hastily, went 
to the side of the divan again. She slid down on to the 
rug where she had knelt before. The Sheik was lying as 
she had left him. For a few moments she looked at him, 
then drowsily her eyes closed and her head fell forward 
on the cushions, and with a half-sad smile of satisfaction 
Saint Hubert gathered her up into his arms. 


THE SHEIK 


237 

He carried her into the bedroom, hesitating beside the 
couch before he put her down. Surely one moment out 
of a lifetime might be granted to him. He would never 
have the torturing happiness of holding her in his arms 
again, would never again clasp her against the heart that 
was crying out for her with the same mad passion that 
had swept over him yesterday. He looked down long- 
ingly on the pale face lying against his arm, and his 
features contracted at the sight of the cruel marks ma.rring 
the whiteness of her delicate throat. The love that all 
his life he had longed for, that he had sought vainly 
through many countries, had come to him at last, and it 
had come too late. The helpless loveliness lying in his 
arms was not for him. It was Ahmed whom she loved, 
Ahmed who had waked to such a tardy recognition of the 
priceless gift that she -had given him, Ahmed whom he 
must wrest from the grim spectre that was hovering near 
him lest the light that shone in her violet eyes should go 
out in the blackness of despair. And yet as he looked at 
her with eyes filled with hopeless misery a demon of 
suggestion whispered within him, tempting him. He 
knew" his friend as no one else did. What chance of 
happiness had any woman with a man like Ahmed Ben 
Hassan, at the mercy of his savage nature and passionate 
changeable moods ? What reason to suppose that the love 
that had flamed up so suddenly at the thought that he had 
lost her would survive the knowledge of repossession? 
To him, all his life, a thing desired had upon possession 
become valueless. With the fulfilment of acquisition had 
come always disinterest. The pleasure of pursuit faded 
with ownership. Would this hapless girl who had poured 
out such a wealth of love at the feet of the man who had 


THE SHEIK 


B38 

treated her brutally fare any better at his hands? Her 
chance was slight, if any. Ahmed in the full power of 
his strength again would be the man he had always been, 
implacable, cruel, merciless. Saint Hubert’s own longing, 
his passionate, Gallic temperament, were driving him as 
they had driven him the day before. The longing to save 
her from misery was acute, that, and his own love, 
prompted by the urging of the desire within him. Then 
he trembled, and a great fear of himself came over him. 
Ahmed was his friend. Who was he that he should 
judge him? He could at least be honest with himself, he 
could own the truth. He coveted what was not his, and 
masked his envy with a hypocrisy that now appeared con- 
temptible. The clasp of his arms around her seemed sud- 
denly a profanation, and he laid her down very gently on 
the low couch, drawing the thin coverlet over her, and 
went back slowly to the other room. 

He sent Henri away and sat down beside the divan to 
watch with a feeling of weariness that was not bodily. 
The great tent was very still, a pregnant silence seemed to 
hang in the air, a brooding hush that strained Saint 
Hubert’s already overstrained nerves. He had need of 
all his calm, and he gripped himself resolutely. For a 
time Ahmed Ben Hassan lay motionless, and then, as the 
day crept on and the early rays of the warm sun filled 
the tent, he moved uneasily, and began to mutter fever- 
ishly in confused Arabic and French. At first the words 
that came were almost unintelligiblej pouring out with 
rapid indistinctness, then by degrees his voice slowed, and 
hesitating, interrupted sentences came clearly from his 
lips. And beside him, with his face buried in his hands, 
Raoul de Saint Hubert thanked God fervently that he had 


THE SHEIK 


239 

saved Diana the added torture of listening to the revela- 
tions of the past four months. 

The first words were in Arabic, then the slow, soft voice 
lapsed into French, pure as the Vicomte’s own. 

“ Two hours south of the oasis with the three broken 
palm trees by the well. . . . Lie still, you little fool, it is 
useless to struggle. You cannot get away, I shall not let 
you go. . . . Why have I brought you here? You ask 
me why? Mon Dieu! Are you not woman enough to 
know? No! I will not spare you. Give me what I 
want willingly and I will be kind to you, but fight me, and 
by Allah! you shall pay the cost! ... I know you hate 
me, you have told me so already. Shall I make you love 
me? . . . Still disobedient? When will you learn that I 
am master? ... I have not tired of you yet, you lovely 
little wild thing, gargon manque. ... You say she is 
cowed; I say she is content — content to give me every- 
thing I ask of her. . . . For four months she has fought 
me. Why does it give me no pleasure to have broken 
her at last? Why do I want her still? She is English 
and I have made her pay for my hatred of her cursed 
race. I have tortured her to keep my vow, and still I 
want her. . . . Diane, Diane, how beautiful you are! . . . 
What devil makes me hate Raoul after twenty years? 
Last night she only spoke to him, and when he went I 
cursed her till I saw the terror in her eyes. She fears me. 
Why should I care if she loves him. ... I knew she was 
not asleep when I went to her. I felt her quivering beside 
me. ... I wanted to kill Raoul when he would not come 
with me, but for that I would have gone back to her. . . . 
Allah ! how long the day has been. . . . Has it been long 
to her? Will she smile or tremble when I come? . . . 


240 


THE SHEIK 


Where is Diane? . . . Diane, Diane, how could I know 
how much you meant to me? How could I know that I 
should love you? . . . Diane, Diane, my sunshine. The 
tent is cold and dark without you. . . . Ibraheim Omair ! 
That devil and Diane! Oh, Allah! Grant me time to 
get to her. . . . How the jackals are howling. . . . See, 
Raoul, there are the tents. . . . Diane, where are you? 
. . . Grand Dieu! He has been torturing her! ... You 
knew that I would come, ma bien aimee, only a few mo- 
ments while I kill him, then I can hold you in my arms. 
Dieu! If you knew how much I loved you. . . . Diane, 
Diane, it is all black. I cannot see you, Diane, Diane 

It 

And hour after hour with weary hopelessness the tired 
voice went on — “Diane, Diane . • 


CHAPTER IX 


It was evening when Diana opened drowsy and heavy 
eyes, a bitter taste in her mouth from the effects of the 
drug that Saint Hubert had given her. Everything had 
been laid out in readiness for her waking with the little 
touches that were characteristic of Zilah’s handiwork, but 
the Arab girl herself was not visible. The lamp was 
lighted, and Diana turned her head languidly, still half 
confused, to look at the clock beside her. The tiny chime 
sounded seven times, and with a rush of recollection she 
leaped up. More than twelve hours since she had knelt 
beside him after drinking the coffee that Raoul had given 
her. She guessed what he had done and tried to be grate- 
ful, but the thought of what might have happened during 
the twelve hours she had lain like a log was horrible. 
She dressed with feverish haste and went into the outer 
room. It was filled with Arabs, many of whom she did 
not recognise, and she knew that they must belong to the 
reinforcements that Ahmed Ben Hassan had sent for. 
Two, who seemed from their appearance to be petty 
chiefs, were talking in low tones to Saint Hubert, who 
looked worn and tired. The rest were grouped silently 
about the divan, looking at the still-unconscious Sheik. 
The restlessness and delirium of the morning had passed 
and been succeeded by a death-like stupor. Nearest to 
him stood Yusef, his usual swaggering self-assurance 


THE SHEIK 


242 

changed into an attitude of deepest dejection, and his eyes, 
that were fixed on Ahmed Ben Hassan’s face, were like 
those of a whipped dog. 

Gradually the tent emptied until only Yusef was left, 
and at last, reluctantly, he too went, stopping at the en- 
trance to speak to Saint Hubert, who had just taken 
leave of the two headmen. 

The Vicomte came back, bringing a chair for Diana, 
and put her into it with gentle masterfulness. “ Sit 
down,” he said almost gruffly. “ You look like a ghost.” 

She looked up at him reproachfully. “ You drugged 
that coffee, Raoul. If he had died to-day while I was 
asleep I don't think I could ever have forgiven you.” 

“ My dear child,” he said gravely. you don't know 
how near you were to collapse. If I had not made you 
sleep I should have had three patients on my hands in- 
stead of two.” 

I am very ungrateful,” she murmured, with a trem- 
ulous little smile. 

Saint Hubert brought a chair for himself and dropped 
into it wearily. He felt very tired, the strain of the past 
twenty-four hours had been tremendous. He had a very 
real fear that was fast growing into a conviction that 
his skill was going to prove unequal to save his friend's 
life, and beside that anxiety and his physical fatigue he 
had fought a bitter fight with himself all day, tearing out 
of his heart the envy and jealousy that filled it, and 
locking away his love as a secret treasure to be hidden 
for always. His devotion to Ahmed Ben Hassan had 
survived the greatest test that could be imposed upon it, 
and had emerged from the trial strengthened and refined, 
with every trace of self obliterated. It had been the 


THE SHEIK 


243 


hardest struggle of his life, but it was over nov/, and all 
the bitterness had passed, leaving only a passionate desire 
for Diana’s happiness that outweighed .every other 
thought. One spark of comfort remained. He would 
not be quite useless. His help and sympathy would be 
necessary to her, and even for that he was grateful. 

He looked across the divan at her, and the change 
that the last few hours had made in her struck him pain- 
fully. The alert, vigorous boyishness that had been so 
characteristic was gone. Her slim figure drooping list- 
lessly in the big chair, her white face with the new marks 
of sufifering on it, and her wide eyes burning with dumb 
misery, were all purely womanly. And yet though he 
resented the change he wished it could have gone further. 
The restraint she was putting on herself was unnatural. 
She asked no questions and she shed no tears. He could 
have borne them both easier than the* silent anguish of 
her face. He feared the results of the emotion she was 
repressing so rigidly. 

There was a long silence. 

Henri came in once and Diana roused herself to ask 
for Gaston, and then relapsed into silent watchfulness 
again. She sighed once, a long quivering sigh that nearly 
broke Saint Hubert’s heart. He rose and bent over the 
Sheik with his fingers on his wrist, and as he laid the 
nerveless hand down again she leaned nearer and covered 
it with her own. 

“ His hand is so big for an Arab’s,” she said softly, 
like a thought spoken aloud unconsciously. 

“ He is not an Arab,” replied Saint Hubert with sudden, 
impatient vehemence. “ He is English.” 

Diana looked up at him swiftly with utter bewilder- 


244 


THE SHEIK 


ment in her startled eyes, I don’t understand," she 
faltered. He hates the English." 

Quand-meme, he is the son of one of your English 
peers. His mother was a Spanish lady ; many of the old 
noble Spanish families have Moorish blood in their veins, 
the characteristics crop up even after centuries. It is so 
with Ahmed, and his life in the desert has accentuated it. 
Has he never told you anything about himself ? ’’ 

She shook her head. “ Sometimes I have won- 
dered ’’ she said reflectively. ‘‘ He seemed different 

from the others, and there has been so much that I could 
never undeistand. But then again there were times when 
he seemed pure Arab," she added in a lower voice and 
with an involuntary shiver. 

“ You ought to know,” said Saint Hubert. “ Yes ! " 
he went on firmly, as she tried to interrupt him. ** It is 
due to you. It will explain so many things. I will take 
the responsibility. His father is the Earl of Glencaryll." 

“ But I know him," said Diana wonderingly. He 
was a friend of my father. I saw him only a few months 
ago when Aubrey and I passed through Paris. Pie is 
such a magnificent-looking old man, so fierce and sad. 
Oh, now I know why that awful frown of Ahmed’s has 
always seemed so familiar. Lord Glencaryll frowns like 
that. It is the famous Caryll scowl. But I still don’t 
understand." She looked from Saint Hubert to the un- 
conscious man on the divan and back to Saint Hubert 
with a new trouble growing in her eyes. 

“ I had better tell you the whole story," said Raoul, 
dropping back into his chair. 

“ Thirty-six years ago my father, who was as great a 
wanderer as I am, was staying here in the desert with his 


THE SHEIK 


245 


friend the Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan. A chance ac- 
quaintance some years before over the purchase of some 
horses had ripened into a very intimate friendship that 
was unusual between a Frenchman and an Arab. The 
Sheik was a wonderful man, very enlightened, with strong 
European tendencies. As a mitter of pure fact he was 
not too much in sympathy with the French form of ad- 
ministration as carried on in Algeria, but he was not 
affected sufficiently by it to make any real difficulty. The 
territory that he regarded as his own lay too much to the 
south, and he kept his large and scattered tribe in too 
good order for any interference to be possible. He was 
unmarried, and the women of his own race seemed to 
have no attraction for him. He was wrapped up in his 
tribe and his horses. My father had come for a stay of 
some months. My mother had recently died and he 
wanted to get away from everything that reminded him 
of her. One evening, shortly after his arrival at the 
camp, a party of the Sheik’s men who had been absent 
for some days in the north on the chief’s affairs arrived, 
bringing with them a woman whom they had found 
wandering in the desert. How she had got there, or from 
what direction she had come, they did not know. They 
were nearer civilisation than Ahmed Ben Hassan’s camp 
at the time, but with true native tendency to avoid re- 
sponsibility they thought that the disposal of her was a 
matter more for their Sheik than themselves. She could 
give no account of herself, as, owing to the effects of the 
sun or other causes, she was temporarily out of her mind. 
Arabs are very gentle with any one who is mad — 
‘Allah has touched them!’ She was taken to the tent 
of one of the headmen, whose wife looked after her. For 


THE SHEIK 


246 

some days it was doubtful whether she would recover, 
and her condition was aggravated by the fact that she 
was shortly to become a mother. She did regain her 
senses after a time, however, but nothing could make her 
say anything about herself, and questions reduced her to 
terrible fits of hysterical crying which were prejudicial in 
her state of health. She seemed calmest when she was 
left quite alone, but even then she started at the slightest 
sound, and the headman’s wife reported that she would 
lie for hours on her bed crying quietly to herself. She 
was quite young — seemingly not more than nineteen or 
twenty. From her accents my father decided that she 
was Spanish, but she would admit nothing, not even her 
nationality. In due course of time the child was bom, a 
boy.” 

Saint Hubert paused a moment and nodded towards 
the Sheik. “ Even after the child’s birth she refused to 
give any account of herself. In that she was as firm as 
a rock; in everything else she was the frailest, gentlest 
little creature imaginable. She was very small and slen- 
der, with quantities of soft dark hair and beautiful great 
dark eyes that looked like a frightened fawn’s. I have 
heard my father describe her many times, and I have seen 
the water-colour sketch he made of her — he was quite 
an amateur. Ahmed has it locked away somewhere. 
She nearly died when the baby was born, and she never 
recovered her strength. She made no complaint and 
never spoke of herself, and seemed quite content as long 
as the child was with her. She was a child herself in a 
great number of ways. It never seemed to occur to her 
that there was anything odd in her continued residence in 
the Sheik’s camp- She had a tent ^d servants of her 


THE SHEIK 


£47 

own, and the headman’s wife was devoted to her. So 
were the rest of the camp for that matter. There was an 
element of the mysterious in her advent that had taken 
hojd of the superstitious Arabs, and the baby was looked 
upon as something more than human and was adored by 
all the tribe. The Sheik himself, who had never looked 
twice at a woman before in his life, became passionately 
attached to her. My father says that he has never seen 
a man so madly in love as Ahmed Ben Hassan was with 
the strange white girl who had come so oddly into his 
life. He repeatedly implored her to marry him, and 
even my father, who has a horror of mixed marriages, 
was impelled to admit that any woman might have been 
happy with Ahmed Ben Hassan. She would not consent, 
though she would give no reason for her refusal, and the 
mystery that surrounded her remained as insclvable dur- 
ing the two years that she lived after the baby’s birth as 
it had been on the day of her arrival. And her refusal 
made no difference with the Sheik. His devotion was 
wonderful. When she died my father was again visiting 
the camp. She knew that she was dying, and a few days 
before the end she told them her pitiful little history. 
She was the only daughter of one of the oldest noble 
houses in Spain, as poor as they were noble, and she had 
been married when she was seventeen to Lord Glencaryll, 
who had seen her with her parents in Nice. She had 
been married without any regard to her own wishes, and 
though she grew to love her husband she was always 
afraid of him. He had a terrible temper that was very 
easily roused, and, in those days, he also periodically 
drank a great deal more than was good for him, and when 
under the influence of drink behaved more like a devil 


THE SHEIK 


248 

than a man. She was very young and gauche, failing 
often to do what was required of her from mere nervous- 
ness. He was exigent and made no allowance for her 
youth and inexperience, and her life was one long torture. 
And yet in spite of it all she loved him. Even in speak- 
ing of it she insisted that the fault was hers, that the 
trouble was due to her stupidity, glossing over his brutal- 
ity; in fact, it was not from her, but from inquiries that 
he made after her death, that my father learned most of 
what her life had been. It seems that Lord Glencaryll 
had taken her to Algiers and had wished to make a trip 
into the desert. He had been drinking heavily, and she 
did not dare to upset his plans by refusing to go with him 
or even by telling him, how soon her child was going to 
be born. So she went with him, and one night something 
happened — what she would not say, but my father says 
he has never seen such a look of terror on any woman^s 
face as she hurried over that part of her story. What- 
ever it was she waited until the camp was asleep and then 
slipped out into the desert, mad with fear, with no thought 
beyond a blind instinct of flight that drove her panic- 
stricken to face any danger rather than remain and under- 
go the misery she was flying from. She remembered 
hurrying onward, terrified by every sound and every 
shadow, frightened even by the blazing stars that seemed 
to be watching her and pointing out the way she had 
taken, until her mind was numb from utter weariness 
and she remembered nothing more until she awoke in the 
headman's tent. She had been afraid to say who she 
was lest she should be sent back to her husband. And 
with the birth of the child she became more than ever 
determined to preserve her secret. The boy should be 

/ 


THE SHEIK ^ 


24g> 

spared the suffering she had herself endured, he should 
not be allowed to fall into the hands of his father to be 
at his mercy when the periodical drinking fits made him 
a very fiend of cruelty. She made my father and the 
Sheik swear that not until the boy grew to manhood 
should Lord Glencaryll be told of his existence. She 
wrote a letter for her husband which she gave into my 
father’s keeping, together with her wedding ring, which 
had an inscription inside of it, and a miniature of Glen- 
caryll which she had worn always hidden away from 
sight. She was very contrite with the Sheik, begging his 
forgiveness for the sorrow she had caused him and for 
keeping from his knowledge the fact that she was not 
free. She loved her husband loyally to the end, but the 
last few days that she lived the Sheik’s devotion seemed 
to wake an answering tenderness in her heart. She was 
happiest when he was with her, and she died in his arms 
with his kisses on her lips. She left her boy in his 
keeping, and Ahmxed Ben Hassan adopted him formally 
and made him his heir, giving him his own name — the 
hereditary name that the Sheik of the tribe has borne for 
generations. His word was law amongst his people, and 
there was no thought of any opposition to his wishes; 
further, the child was considered lucky, and his choice of 
successor was received with unanimous delight. All the 
passionate love that the Sheik had for the mother was 
transferred to the son. He idolised him, and the boy grew 
up believing that Ahmed Ben Hassan was his own 
father. With the traits he had inherited from his 
mother’s people and with his desert upbringing he looked, 
as he does now, pure Arab. When he was fifteen my 
father induced the Sheik to send him to Paris to be edu** 


THE SHEIK 


250 

cated. With his own European tendencies the Sheik had 
wished it also, but he could not bring himself to part 
with the boy before, and it was a tremendous wrench to 
let him go when he did. It was then that I first saw 
him. I was eighteen at the time, and had just begun my 
military training, but as my regiment was stationed in 
Paris I was able to be at home a good deal. He v/as such 
a handsome, high-spirited lad. Men mature very young 
in the desert and in many ways he was a great deal 
older than I was, in spite of my three years’ seniority. 
But, of course, in other ways he was a perfect child. He 
had a fiendish temper and resented any check on his 
natural lawless inclinations. He loathed the restrictions 
that had to be put upon him and he hated the restraint of 
town life. He had been accustomed to having his own 
way in nearly everything, and to the constant adulation 
of the tribesmen, and he was not prepared to give to any- 
body else the obedience that he gave willingly to the 
Sheik. There were some very stormy times, and I never 
admired my father in anything so much as his handling of 
that young savage. His escapades were nerve-racking 
and his beaux yeux led him into endless scrapes. The 
only threat that reduced him to order was that of send- 
ing him home to the Sheik in disgrace; He would prom- 
ise am.endment and take himself off to the Bois to work 
off his superfluous energy on my father’s horses — until 
he broke out again. But in spite of his temper and his 
diableries he was very lovable and everybody liked him. 

After a year with us in Paris my father, always 
mindful of his real nationality, sent him for two years 
to a tutor in England, where I had myself been. The 
tutor was an exceptional man, used to dealing with ex- 


THE SHEIK 


251 


ceptional boys, and Ahmed did very well with him. I 
don’t mean that he did much work — that he evaded 
skilfully and spent most of his time hunting and shooting. 
The only thing that he studied at all seriously was veteri- 
nary surgery, which he knew would be useful to him 
with his own horses, and in which his tutor was level- 
headed enough to encourage him. Then at the end of 
two years he came back to us for another year. He had 
gone to the desert every summer for his holidays, and on 
each occasion the Sheik let him return with greater re- 
luctance. He was always afraid that the call of civilisa- 
tion would be too much for his adopted son, especially 
as he grew older, but although Ahmed had changed very 
much from the wild desert lad who had first come to us, 
and had developed into a polished man of the world, 
speaking French and English as fluently as Arabic, with 
plenty of means to amuse himself in any way that he 
wished — for the Sheik was very rich and kept him 
lavishly supplied with money — and though in that last 
year he was with us he was courted and feted in a way 
that would have turned most people’s heads, he was al- 
ways secretly longing for the time when he would go 
back to the desert. It was the desert, not civilisation that 
called loudest to him. He loved the life and he adored 
the man whom he thought was his father. To be the 
son and heir of Ahmed Ben Hassan seemed to him to be 
the highest pinnacle that any man’s ambition could reach. 
He was perfectly indifferent to the flattery and attention 
that his money and his good looks brought him. My 
father entertained very largely and Ahmed became the 
fashion — * Lc hcl A.T(ihe ^ he was called, and he enjoyed a 
succes fou which bored him to extinction — and at the 


THE SHEIK 


252 

end of the year, having written to the Sheik for permk- 
sion to go home, he shook the dust of Paris off his feet 
and went back to the desert. I went with him. It was 
my first visit and the first time that I had experienced 
Ahmed en prince. I had never seen him in anything but 
European clothes, and I got quite a shock when I came 
up on deck the morning that we arrived at Oran and 
found an Arab of the Arabs waiting for me. The robes 
and a complete change of carriage and expression that 
seemed to go with them altered him curiously and I 
hardly recognised him. Some of his men were waiting 
for him on the quay and their excitement was extraordi- 
nary. I realised from the deference and attention that 
the French officials paid to Ahmed the position that the 
old Sheik had made for himself and the high esteem in 
which he was held. We spent the rest of the day in 
arranging for the considerable baggage that he had 
brought with him to be forwarded by the camel caravan 
that had been sent for the purpose, and also in business 
for the Sheik in Oran. We spent the night in a villa on 
the outskirts of the town belonging to an old Arab who 
entertained us lavishly, and who spent the evening con- 
gratulating Ahmed heartily on having escaped from the 
clutches of the odious French, by no means abashed when 
Ahmed pointed out that there was an odious Frenchman 
present, for he dismissed me with a gesture that conveyed 
that my nationality was my misfortune and not my fault, 
and in impressing on him the necessity of immediately 
acquiring a wife or two and settling down for the good 
of the tribe — all this in the intervals of drinking coffee, 
listening to the most monotonous native music and watch- 
ing barbaric dances. There was one particularly well-^ 


THE SHEIK 


253 

made dancing girl that the old man tried to induce Ahmed 
to buy, and he made a show of bargaining for her — not 
from any real interest he took in her, but merely to see 
the effect that it would have on me. But I refused to be 
drawn, and as my head was reeling with the atmosphere 
I escaped to bed and left him still bargaining. We 
started early next morning, and were joined a few miles 
out of the town by a big detachment of followers. The 
excitement of the day before was repeated on a very 
much larger scale. It was a novel experience for me, 
and I can hardly describe my feelings in the midst of 
that yelling horde of men, galloping wildly round us and 
firing their rifles until it seemed hardly possible that some 
accident would not happen. It was Ahmed’s attitude that 
impressed me most. He took it all quietly as his due, 
and when he had had enough of it stopped it with a per- 
emptory authority that was instantly obeyed, and apol- 
ogised for the exuberant behaviour of his children. It 
was a new Ahmed to me ; the boy I had known for four 
years seemed suddenly transformed into a man who made 
me feel very young. In France I had naturally always 
rather played elder brother, but here Ahmed was on his 
own ground and the roles seemed likely to be reversed. 
The arrival at the Sheik’s camp was everything that the 
most lavish scenic producer could have wished. Though 
I had heard of it both from my father and Ahmed I was 
not quite prepared for the splendour with which the 
Sheik surrounded himself. With Eastern luxury was 
mingled many European adjuncts that added much to 
the comfort of camp life. The meeting between the 
Sheik and Ahmed was most touching. I had a very happy 
time and left with regret. The charm of the desert took 


254 


THE SHEIK 


hold of me then and has never left me since. But I had 
to return to my medical studies. I left Ahmed absorbed 
in his life and happier than I had ever seen him in Paris. 
He was nineteen then, and when he was twenty-one my 
father had the unpleasant task of carrying out Lady 
Glencaryirs dying wishes. He wrote to Lord Glencaryll 
asking him to come to Paris on business connected with 
his late wife, and, during the course of a ver}^ painful 
interview, put the whole facts before him. With the 
letter that the poor girl had written to her husband, with 
the wedding-ring and the locket, together with the sketch 
that my father had made of her, the proofs of the genuine- 
ness of the whole affair were conclusive. Glencaryll 
broke down completely. He admitted that his wife had 
every justification for leaving him, he spared himself 
nothing. He referred quite frankly to the curse of which 
he had been the slave and which had made him irresponsi- 
ble for his actions when he was under its influence. He 
had never known himself what had happened that terrible 
night, but the tragedy of his wife’s disappearance had 
cured him. He had made every effort to find her and it 
was many years before he gave up all hope. He mourned 
her bitterly, and worshipped her memory. It was im- 
possible not to pity him, for he had expiated his fault 
with agony that few men can have experienced. The 
thought that he had a son and that son her child almost 
overwhelmed him. He had ardently desired an heir, and, 
thinking himself childless, the fact that his title and his 
old name, of which he was very proud, would die with 
him had been a great grief. His happiness in the knowl- 
edge of Ahmed’s existence was pathetic, he was con- 
sumed with impatience for his son’s arrival. Nothing 


THE SHEIK 


255 

had been said to Ahmed in case Lord Glencaryll should 
prove difficult to convince and thereby complicate mat- 
ters, but his ready acceptance of the affair and his eager- 
ness to see his son made further delay unnecessary, and 
my father sent for Ahmed. The old Sheik let him go in 
ignorance of what was coming. He had always dreaded 
the time when his adopted son would have to be told of his 
real parentage, fearful of losing him, jealous of sharing 
his affection and resenting anybody's claim to him over 
his own. And so, with the only instance he ever gave of 
want of moral courage, he sent Ahmed to Paris with no 
explanation, and left to my father the task of breaking to 
him the news. I shall never forget that day. It had 
been arranged that Ahmed should be told first and that 
afterwards father and son should meet. Ahmed arrived 
in the morning in time for dejeuner, and afterwards we 
went to my father's study, and there he told him the 
whole story as gently and as carefully as he could. 
Ahmed was standing by the window. He never said a 
word the whole time my father was speaking, and when 
he finished he stood quite still for a few moments, his 
face almost grey under the deep tan, his eyes fixed pas- 
sionately on my father’s — and then his fiendish temper 
broke out suddenly. It was a terrible scene. He cursed 
his father in a steady stream of mingled Arabic and 
French blasphemy that made one’s blood run cold. He 
cursed all Knglish people impartially. He cursed my 
father because he had dared to send him to England. He 
cursed me because I had been a party to the affair. The 
only person whom he spared was the Sheik ; who after all 
was as much implicated as we were, but he never once 
mentioned him. He refused to see his father, refused to 


THE SHEIK 


256 

recognise that he was his father, and he left the house 
that afternoon and Paris that night, going straight back to 
the desert, taking with him Gaston, who had arranged 
some time before to enter his service as soon as his time 
in the cavalry was up. A letter that Lord Glencaryll 
wrote to him, addressed to Viscount Caryll, which is, of 
course, his courtesy title, begging for at least an inter- 
view, and which he gave to us to forward, was returned 
unopened, and scrawled across the envelope : * Inconnu. 
Ahmed Ben Hassan.’ And since that day his hatred of 
the English had been a monomania, and he has never 
spoken a word of English. Later on, when we used to 
travel together, his obvious avoidance of English people 
was at times both awkward and embarrassing, and I have 
often had to go through the farce of translating into 
French or Arabic remarks made to him by English fellow- 
travellers, that is, when he condescended to notice the 
remarks, which was not often. From the day he learned 
the truth about himself for two years we saw nothing of 
him. Then the old Sheik asked us to visit him. We went 
with some misgivings as to what Ahmed’s reception of 
us would be, but he met us as if nothing had happened. 
He ignored the whole episode and has never referred to 
it. It is a closed incident. The Sheik warned us that 
Ahmed had told him that any reference to it would mean 
the breaking off of all relations with us. But Ahmed 
himself had changed indescribably. All the lovable qual- 
ities that had made him so popular in Paris were gone, 
and he had become the cruel, merciless man he has been 
ever since. The only love left in him was given to his 
adooted father, whom he worshipped. Later I was al- 
lowed back on the old footing, and he has always been 


THE SHEIK 


257 

good to Gaston, but with those three exceptions he has 
spared nobody and nothing. He is my friend, I love him, 
and I am not telling you more than you know already.” 

Saint Hubert broke off and looked anxiously at Diana, 
but she did not move or meet his gaze. She was sitting 
with her hand still clasped over the Sheik’s and the other 
one shading her face, and the Vicomte went on speaking : 
“ It is so easy to judge, so difficult to understand another 
person’s temptations. Ahmed’s position has always been 
a curious one. He has had unique temptations with 
always the means of gratifying them.” 

There was a longer pause, but still Diana did not move 
or speak. 

The curse of Ishmael had taken hold of me by then 
and I wandered continually. Sometimes Ahmed came 
with me ; we have shot big game together in most parts 
of the globe. A few times he stayed with us in Paris, 
but never for long; he always wearied to get back to the 
desert. Five years ago the old Sheik died ; he was an 
exceptionally strong man, and should have lived for years 
but for an accident which crippled him hopelessly and 
from which he died a few months afterwards. Ahmed’s 
devotion during his illness was wonderful. He never 
left him, and since he succeeded to the leadership of the 
tribe he has lived continuously amongst his people, ab- 
sorbed in them and his horses, carrying on the traditions 
handed down to him by his predecessor and devoting his 
life to the tribe. They are like children, excitable, pas- 
sionate and headstrong, and he has never dared to risk 
leaving them alone too long, particularly with the menace 
of Ibraheim Omair always in the background. He has 
never been able to seek relaxation further afield than 


THE SHEIK 


258 

Algiers or Oran ” Saint Hubert stopped abruptly, 

cursing himself for a tactless fool. She could not fail to 
realise the significance of those visits to the gay, vicious 
little towns. The inference was obvious. His thought- 
less words would only add to her misery. Her sensi- 
tive mind would shrink from the contamination they 
implied. If Ahmed was going to die, she would be deso- 
late enough without forcing on her knowledge the un- 
worthiness of the man she loved. He pushed his chair 
back impatiently and went to the open doorway. He felt, 
that she wanted to be alone. She watched him go, then 
slipped to her knees beside the couch. 

She had realised the meaning of Raouhs carelessly 
uttered words and they had hurt her poignantly, but it 
was no new sorrow. He had told her himself months ago, 
callously, brutally, sparing her nothing, extenuating noth- 
ing. She pressed her cheek against the hand she was 
holding. She did not blame him, she could only love him, 
no matter what his life had been. It was Ahmed as he 
was she loved, his faults, his vices were as much a part 
of him as his superb physique and the alternating moods 
that had been so hard to meet. She had never known him 
otherwise. He seemed to stand alone, outside the' pre- 
scribed conventions that applied to ordinary men. The 
standards of common usage did not appear compatible 
with the wild desert man who was his own law and fol- 
lowed only his own precedent, defiant of social essentials 
and scornful of criticism. The proud, fierce nature and 
passionate temper that he had inherited, the position of 
despotic leadership in which he had been reared, the 
adulation of his followers and the savage life in the 
desert, free from all restraint, had combined to produce 


THE SHEIK 


259 

the haughty unconventionalism that would not submit to 
the ordinary rules of life. She could not think of him as 
an Englishman. The mere accident of his parentage was 
a factor that weighed nothing. He was and always would 
be an Arab of the wilderness. If he lived! He must 
live I He could not go out like that, his magnificent 
strength and fearless courage extinguished by a treach- 
erous blow that had not dared to meet him face to face — 
in spite of the overwhelming numbers — but had struck; 
him down from behind, a coward stroke. He must live, 
even if his life meant death to her hopes of happiness; 
that was nothing compared with his life. She loved him 
well enough to sacrifice anything for him. If he only 
lived she could bear even to be put out of his life. It 
was only he that mattered, his life was everything. He 
was so young, so strong, so made to live. He had so 
much to live for. He was essential to his people. They 
needed him. If she could only die for him. In the days 
when the world was young the gods were kind, they 
listened to the prayers of hapless lovers and accepted the 
life that was offered in place of the beloved whose life 
was claimed. If God would but listen to her now. If 
He would but accept her life in exchange for his. 
If 1 If ! 

Her fingers crept up lightly across his breast, fearful 
lest even their tender touch should injure his battered 
body, and she looked long and earnestly at him. His 
crisp brown hair was hidden by the bandages that, dead 
white against his tanned face, swathed his bruised head. 
His closed eyes with the thick dark lashes curling on his 
cheek, hiding the usual fierce expression that gleamed in 
them, and the relaxation of the hard lines of his face made 


26 o 


THE SHEIK 


him look singularly young. That youthful look had been 
noticeable often when he was asleep, and she had watched 
it wondering what Ahmed the boy had been like before 
he grew into the merciless man at whose hands she had 
suffered so much. 

And now the knowledge of his boyhood seemed to 
make him even dearer than he had been before. What 
sort of man would he have been if the little dark-eyed 
mother had lived to sway him with her gentleness ? Poor 
little mother, helpless and fragile! — yet strong enough 
to save her boy from the danger that she feared for him, 
but paying the price of that strength with her life, content 
that her child was safe. 

Diana thought of her own mother dying in the arms 
of a husband who adored her, and then of the little 
Spanish girl slipping away from life, a stranger in a 
strange land, her heart crying out for the husband whom 
she still loved, turning in ignorance of his love for con- 
solation in the agony of death to the lover she had denied, 
and seeking comfort in his arms. A sudden jealousy of 
the two dead women shook her. They had been loved. 
Why could not she be loved? Wherein did she fail that 
he would not love her? Other men had loved her, and 
his love was all she longed for in the world. To feel 
his arms around her only once with love in their touch, 
to see his passionate eyes kindle only once with the light 
she prayed for. She drew a long sobbing breath. 
“ Ahmed, mon bel Arabe/' she murmured yearningly. 

She rose to her feet. She was afraid of breaking down, 
of giving way to the fear and anxiety that racked her. 
She turned instinctively to the help and sympathy that 
offered and went to Saint Hubert, joining him under the 


THE SHEIK 


261 


awning. Usually at night the vicinity of the Sheikas tent 
was avoided by the tribesmen, even the sentry on guard 
was posted at some little distance. Kopec curled up 
outside the doorway kept ample watch. But to-night the 
open space was swarmung with men, some squatting on 
the ground in circles, others clustered together in earnest 
conversation, and far off through the palm trees she 
caught an occasional glimpse of mounted men. Yusef 
and the headmen acting under him were taking no risks, 
there was to be no chance of a surprise attack. 

You must be very tired, Raoul,” she said, slipping 
her hand through his arm, for her need was almost as 
much for physical as mental support. The frank touch 
of her hand sent a quiver through him, but he suppressed 
it, and laid his own hand over her cold fingers. 

“ I must not think of that yet. Later on, perhaps, I 
can rest a little. Henri can watch ; he is almost as good 
a doctor as I am, the incomparable Henri! Ahmed and 
I have always quarrelled over the respective merits of 
our servants.” 

He felt her hand tighten on his arm at the mention of 
the Sheik’s name and heard the smothered sigh that she 
choked back. They stood in silence for a while watching 
the shifting groups of tribesmen. A little knot of low- 
voiced men near them opened up, and one of their number 
came to Saint Hubert with an inquiry. 

** The men are restless,” Raoul said when the Arab had 
gone back to his fellows with all the consolation the 
Vicomte could give him. “ Their devotion is very strong. 
Ahmed is a god to them. Their anxiety takes them in a 
variety of ways. Yusef, who has been occupied with his 
duties most of the day, has turned to religion for the first 


262 


THE SHEIK 


time in his life, he has gone to say his prayers with the 
pious Abdul, as he thinks that Allah is more likely to 
listen if his petitions go heavenward in company with the 
holy man’s.’^ 

Diana’s thoughts strayed back to the story that Saint 
Hubert had told her. “ Does Lord Glencaryll know that 
you see Ahmed ? ” she asked. 

“Oil yes. He and my father became great friends. 
He often stays with us in Paris. We are a link between 
him and Ahmed. He is always hungry for any news of 
him, and still clings to the hope that one day he will 
relent. He has never made any further effort to open 
up relations with him because he knows it would be 
useless. If there is to be any rapprochement between 
them it must come from Ahmed. They have almost met 
accidentally once or twice, and Glencaryll has^ once seen 
him. It was at the opera. He was staying in Paris for 
some months and had a box. I had gone across from our 
own box on the other side of the house to speak to him. 
There were several people with him. I was standing 
beside him, talking. Ahmed had just come into our box 
opposite and was standing right in the front looking over 
the theatre. Something had annoyed him and he was 
scowling. The likeness was unmistakable. Glencaryll 
gave a kind of groan and staggered back against me. 
‘Good God! Who is that?’ he said, and I don’t think 
he knew he was speaking out loud. 

“ A man next him looked in the direction he was 
looking and laughed. ‘ That’s the Saint Huberts’ wild 
man of the desert. Looks fierce, doesn’t he ? The 
women call him le bel Arahe!' He certainly wears 
European clothes with better grace than most natives. 


THE SHEIK 


263 

He is said to have a peculiar hatred of the English, so 
you’d better give him a wide berth, Glencaryll, if you 
don’t want to be bow-stringed or have your throat cut, 
or whatever fancy form of death the fellow cultivates in 
his native habitat. Raoul can tell you all about him.’ 

There was not any need for me to tell him. Fortu- 
nately the opera began and the lights went down, and I 
persuaded him to go away before the thing was over.” 

Diana gave a little shiver. She felt a great sympathy 
coming over her for the lonely old man, hoping against 
hope for the impossible, that she had not felt earlier in 
the evening. He, too, was wearing his heart out against 
the inflexible will of Ahmed Ben Hassan. 

She shivered again and turned back into the tent with 
Saint Hubert. They halted by the couch and stood for 
a long time in silence. Then Diana slowly raised her 
head and looked up into Raoul’s face, and he read the 
agonised question in her eyes. 

I don’t know,” he said gently. “ All things are with 
Allah.” 


CHAPTER X 


The night grew hotter and the atmosphere more op- 
pressive. Wrapped in a thin silk kimono Diana lay very 
still on the outside of the wide couch in the inner room, 
propped high with pillows that the shaded light of the 
little reading-lamp beside her might fall on the book she 
held, but she was not reading. 

It was Raoul’s latest book, that he had brought with 
him, but she could not concentrate her mind on it, 
and it lay idle on her knee ‘while her thoughts were 
far away. It was three months since the night that Saint 
Hubert had almost given up hope of being able to save 
the Sheik’s life — a night that had been followed by 
days of suspense that had reduced Diana to a weary-eyed 
shadow of her former vigorous self, and had left marks 
on Raoul that would never be effaced. But thanks to his 
great strength and splendid constitution the Sheik had 
rallied and after the first few weeks convalescence had 
been rapid. When the terrible fear that he might die 
was past it had been a wonderful happiness to wait on 
him. With the determination to live for the moment, 
to which she had forced herself, she had banished every- 
thing from her mind but the joy of being near him and 
of being necessary to him. It had been a very silent 
service, for he would lie for hours with closed eyes with- 
out speaking, and something that she could not master 
kept her tongue-tied in his presence when they were 
264 


THE SHEIK 


26s 

alone. Only once he had referred to the raid. As she 
bent over him to do some small office his fingers closed 
feebly round her wrist and his eyes, with a searching 
apprehension in them, looked into hers for the first time 
since the night when she had fled from his curses. 

“Was it — in time?” he whispered slowly, and as she 
nodded with crimson cheeks and lowered eyes he turned 
his head away without another word, but a shudder that 
he was too weak to control shook him. 

But the happiness of ministering to him passed very 
swiftly. As he grew stronger he managed so that she 
was rarely alone with him, and he insisted on her riding 
twice every day, sometimes with Saint Hubert, sometimes 
with Henri, coolly avowing a preference for his own 
society or that of Gaston, who was beginning to get about 
again. Later, too, he was much occupied with headmen 
who came in from the different camps, and as the days 
passed she found herself more and more excluded from 
the intimacy that had been so precious. She was thrown 
much into the society of Raoul de Saint Hubert. All that 
they had gone through together had drawn them very 
closely to each other, and Diana often wondered what 
her girlhood would have been like if it nad been spent 
under his guardianship instead of that of Sir Aubrey 
Mayo. The sisterly affection she had never given her 
own brother she gave to him, and, with the firm hold 
over himself that he had never again slackened, the 
Vicomte accepted the role of elder brother which she un- 
consciously imposed on him. 

It was hard work sometimes, and there were days when 
he dreaded the daily rides, when the strain seemed almost 
more than he could bear, and he began to make tcintativc 


^66 


THE SHEIK 


suggestions about resuming his wanderings, but always 
the Sheik pressed him to stay. 

Ahmed Ben Hassan^s final recovery was quick, and the 
camp soon settled down into normal conditions. The 
reinforcements were gone back to the different camps 
from which they had been drawn. There was no further 
need of them. Ibraheim Omair’s tribe, with their leader 
dead, had broken up and scattered far to the south ; there 
was no chief to keep them together and no headman 
strong enough to draw them round a new chieftain, for 
Ibraheim had allowed no member of his tribe to attain 
any degree of wealth or power that might prove him a 
rival; so they had split up into numerous small bands 
lacking cohesion. In fulfilling the vow made to his 
predecessor Ahmed Ben Hassan had cleared the desert 
of a menace that had hung over it for many years. 

The relations between the Sheik and Saint Hubert had 
gone back to what they had been the night of RaouFs 
arrival, before his candid criticism had roused the Sheik’s 
temper and fired his jealousy. The recollection of the 
miserable week that had preceded the raid had been 
wiped out in all that had followed it. No shadow could 
ever come between them again since Raoul had volun- 
tarily stood on one side and sacrificed his own chance of 
happiness for his friend’s. 

And with the Sheik’s complete recovery his attitude 
towards Diana had reverted to the cold reserve that had 
chilled her before — a reserve that was as courteous as it 
was indifferent. He had avoided her as much as had 
been possible, and the continual presence of Saint Hubert 
had been a barrier between them. Unostensibly but ef- 
fectually he had contrived that Raoul should never leave 


THE SHEIK 


267 


them alone^ Though he included her in the general con- 
versation he rarely spoke to her directly, and often she 
found him looking at her with his fierce eyes filled with an 
expression that baffled her, and as each time the quick 
blood rushed into her face his forehead drew together in 
the heavy frown that was so characteristic. During 
meals it was Raoul that kept the conversation from 
lapsing with ready tact and an eloquent flow of words, 
ranging over many subjects. In the evening the men 
became immersed in the projection of Saint Hubert^s new 
book, for details of which he was drawing on the Sheik's 
knowledge, and long after Diana left them she could hear 
the two voices, both deep and musical, but Raoul's quicker 
and more emphatic, continuously rising and falling, till 
at last Raoul would go to his own tent and Gaston would 
come — noiseless and soft-toned as his master. Ordi- 
narily the Sheik dispensed with him at night, but since 
his wound, the valet, as soon as he had himself recovered, 
had always been in attendance. Some nights he lingered 
talking, and others the Sheik dismissed him in a few 
minutes with only a curt word or two, and then there 
would be silence, and Diana would bury her face in her 
pillow and writhe in her desperate loneliness, sick with 
longing for the strong arms she had once dreaded and 
the kisses she had once loathed. He had slept in the 
outer room since his illness, and tossing feverishly on 
the soft cushions of the big empty bed in which she lay 
alone Diana had suffered the greatest humiliation she had 
yet experienced. He had never loved her, but now he 
did not even want her. She was useless to him. She 
was less than nothing to him. He had no need of her. 
She would lie awake listening wearily to the tiny chimes 


268 


THE SHEIK 


of the little dock with the bitter sense of her needless- 
ness crushing her. She was humbled to the very dust by 
his indifference. The hours of loneliness in the room 
that was redolent with associations of him were filled 
with memories that tortured her. In her fitful sleep 
her dreams were agonies from which she awakened with 
shaking limbs and shuddering breath, and waking, her 
hand would stretch out groping to him till remembrance 
came with cruel vividness. 

In the da3^time, too, she had been much alone, for as 
soon as the Sheik was strong enough to sit in the saddle 
the two men had ridden far afield every day, visiting the 
outlying camps and drawing into Ahmed Ben Hassan’s 
own hands again the affairs that had had to be relegated 
to the headmen. 

At last Raoul had announced that his visit could be 
protracted no longer and that he must resume his journey 
to Morocco. He was going up to Oran and from there 
to Tangier by coasting steamer, collecting at Tangier a 
caravan for his expedition through Morocco. His de- 
cision once made he had speeded every means of getting 
away with a despatch that had almost suggested flight. 

To Diana his going meant the hastening of a crisis that 
could not be put off much longer. The situation was 
becoming impossible. She had said good-bye to him the 
night before. She had never guessed the love she had 
inspired in him, and she wondered at the sadness in his 
eyes and his unaccustomed lack of Avords. He had 
wanted to say so much and he had said so little. She 
must never guess and Ahmed must never guess, so he 
played the game to the end. Only that night after she 
had left them the voices sounded in the adjoining room 


THE SHEIK 


269 


for a very short time. And this morning he and Ahmed 
Ben Hassan had ridden away at daybreak. She had not 
been asleep ; she had heard them go, and almost she wished 
Raoul back, for with his presence the vague fear that 
assailed her seemed further away. The camp had seemed 
very lonely and the day very long. 

She had ridden with Gaston, and hurried over her soli- 
tary dinner, and since then she had been waiting for the 
Sheik to come back. In what mood would he come? 
Since Raoul’s announcement of his departure he had been 
more than usually taciturn and reserved. The book she 
held slipped at length on to the floor, and she let it He 
unheeded. The usual stillness of the desert seemed to- 
night unusually still — sinister even — and the silence 
was so intense that the sudden squeal of a stallion a little 
distance away made her start with madly racing heart. 
Earlier in the evening a tom-tom had been going persist- 
ently in the men’s lines, and later a native pipe had 
shrilled thinly in monotonous cadence; but she had grown 
accustomed to these sounds ; they were of nightly occur- 
rence and they soothed rather than irritated her, and when 
they stopped the quiet had become intensified to such a 
degree that she would have welcomed any sound. To- 
night her nerves were on edge. She was restless and 
excited, and her thoughts were chaos. 

She was alone again at his mercy. What would his 
attitude be ? Her hands clenched on her knees. At times 
she lay almost without breathing, straining to hear the 
faintest sound that would mean his return, and then again 
lest she should hear what she listened for. She longed 
for him passionately, and at the same time she wa3 afraid. 
He had changed so much that there were moments when 


THE SHEIE 


270 

she had the curious feeling that it was a stranger wHc 
was coming back to her, and she both dreaded his coming 
and yearned for it with a singular combination of emo- 
tions. She looked round the room where she had at 
once suffered so much and been so happy with troubled 
eyes. She had never been nervous before, but to-night 
her imagination ran riot. There was electricity in the 
air which acted on her overstrung nerves. The little 
shaded lamp threw a circle of light round the bed, but 
left the rest of the room dim, and the dusky corners 
seemed full of odd new shadows that came and went 
illusively. Hangings and objects that were commonly 
familiar to her took on fantastic shapes that she watched 
nervously, till at last she brushed her hand across her 
eyes with a laugh of angry impatience. Was the love 
that had changed her so completely also making her a 
coward? Had even her common-sense been lost in the 
one great emotion that held her? She understood per- 
fectly the change that had taken place in her. She had 
never had any illusions about herself, and had never at- 
tempted to curb the obstinate self-will and haughty pride 
that had characterized her. She thought of it curiously, 
her mind going back over the last few months that had 
changed her whole life. The last mad freak lor which she 
had paid so dearly had been the outcome of an arrogant 
determination to have her own way in the face of all 
protests and advice. And with a greater arrogance and 
a determination stronger than her own Ahmed Ben Has- 
san had tamed her as he tamed the magnificent horses 
that he rode. He had been brutal and merciless, using no 
half measures, forcing her to obedience by sheer strength 
of will and compelling a complete submission. She 


THE SHEIK 


271 


thought of how she had feared and hated him with pas- 
sionate intensity, until the hatred had been swamped by 
love as passionate and as intense. She did not know why 
she loved him, she had never been able to analyse the 
passion that held her so strongly, but she knew deep down 
in her heart that it went now far past his mere physical 
beauty and superb animal strength. She loved him 
blindly with a love that had killed her pride and brought 
her to his feet humbly obedient. All the love that had 
lain dormant in her heart for years was given to him. 
Body and soul she belonged to him. And the change 
within her was patent in her face, the haughty expression 
in her eyes had turned to a tender wistfulness, with a 
curious gleam of expectancy that flickered in them per- 
petually ; the little mutinous mouth had lost the scornful 
curve. And with the complete change in her expression 
she was far more beautiful now than she had ever been. 
But with her love was the fear of him that she had 
learned during the first hours of her captivity, the physi- 
cal fear that she had never- lost, even during the happy 
weeks that had preceded the coming of Saint Hubert, and 
the greater fear that was with her always, and that at 
times drove her, with wide-stricken eyes, wildly to pace 
the tent as if to escape the shadow that hung over her — 
the fear of the time when he should tire of her. The 
thought racked her, and now, as always, she tried to put 
it from her, but it continued, persistently haunting her 
like a grim spectre. Always the same thought tortured 
her — he had not taken her for love. No higher motive 
than a passing fancy had stirred him. He had seen her, 
had wished for her and had taken her, and once in his 
power it had amused him to break her to his hand. She 


THE SHEIK 


1272 

realised all that. And he had been honest, he had never 
pretended to love her. Often when the humour took him 
he could be gentle, as in those last few weeks, but gentle- 
ness was not love, and she had never seen the light that 
she longed for kindle in his eyes. His caresses had been 
passionate or careless with his mood. She did not know 
that he loved her. She had not been with him during the 
long hours of his delirium and she had not heard what 
Raoul de Saint Hubert had heard. And since his re- 
covery his attitude of aloofness had augmented her fear. 
There seemed only one construction to put on his silence, 
and his studied and obvious avoidance of her. The pass- 
ing fancy had passed. It was as if the fleeting passion he 
had had for her had been drained from him with the blood 
that flowed from the terrible wound he had received. He 
was tired of her and seeking for a means to disembarrass 
himself of her. Vaguely she felt that she had known this 
for weeks, but to-night was the first time that she had had 
courage to be frank with herself. It must be so. Every- 
thing pointed to it; the curious expression she had seen 
in his eyes and his constant heavy frown all confirmed it. 
She flung her arm across her eyes with a little moan. He 
was tired of her and the bottom had fallen out of her 
world. The instinct to fight for his love that had been 
so strong in her the day that Ibraheim Omair had captured 
her had died with the death of all her hopes. Her spirit 
was broken. She knew that her will was helpless against 
his, and with a fatalism that she had learned in the desert 
she accepted the inevitable with a crushed feeling of hope- 
lessness. 

She wondered numbly what would become of her. It 
did not seem to matter much. Nothing mattered now that 


THE SHEIK 


273 

he did not want her any more. The old life was far 
away, in another world. She could never go back to it. 
She did not care. It was nothing to her. It was only 
here in the desert, in Ahmed Ben Hassan’s arms, that she 
had become alive, that she had learned what life really 
meant, that she had waked both to happiness and sorrow. 

The future stretched out blank and menacing before 
her, but she turned from it with a great sob of despair. 
It was on him that her thoughts were fixed. How would 
life be endurable without him? Dully she wondered why 
she did not hate him for having done to her what he had 
done, for having made her what she was. But nothing 
that he could do cQuld kill the love now that he had in- 
spired. And she would never regret. She would always 
have the memory of the fleeting happiness that had been 
hers — in after years that memory would be all that she 
would have to live for. Even in her heart she did not 
reproach him, there was no bitterness in her misery. She 
had always known that it would come, though she had 
fenced with it, shutting it out of her mind resolutely. 
He had never led her to expect anything else. There was 
no link to bring them closer together, no bond between 
them. If she could have had the promise of a child. 
Alone though she was the sensitive colpm flamed into her 
cheeks, and she hid her face in the pillows with a quiver- 
ing sob, A child that would be his and hers, a child — a 
boy with the same passionate dark eyes, the same crisp 
brown hair, the same graceful body, who would grow up 
as tall and strong, as brave and fearless as his father. 
Surely he must love her then. Surely the memory of his 
own mother’s tragic history would make him merciful to 
the mother of his son. But she had no hope of that 


THE SHEIK 


274 

mercy. She lay shaking with passionate yearning and 
the storm of bitter tears that swept over her, hungry for 
the clasp of his arms, faint with longing. The pent-up 
misery of weeks that she had crushed down surged over. 
There was nobody to hear the agonising sobs that shook 
her from head to foot. She could relax the control that 
she had put upon herself and which had seemed to be 
slowly turning her to stone. She could give way to the 
emotion that, suppressed, had welled up choking in her 
throat and gripped her forehead like red-hot bands eating 
into her brain. Tears were not easy to her. She had 
not wept since that first night when, with the fear of 
worse than death, she had grovelled at his feet, moaning 
for mercy. She had not wept during the terrible hours 
she was in the power of Toraheim Omair, nor during the 
days that Raoul de Saint Hubert had fought for his 
friend’s life. But tonight the tears that all her life she 
had despised would not be denied. Tortured with con- 
flicting emotions, unsatisfied love, fear and uncertainty, 
utterly unnerved, she gave herself up at last to the feel- 
ings she could no longer restrain. Prone on the wide bed, 
her face buried in the pillows, her hands clutching con- 
vulsively at the silken coverings, she wept until she had 
no more tears, until the anguished sobs died away into 
silence and she lay quiet, exhausted. 

She wrestled with herself. The weakness that she had 
given way to must be conquered. She knew that, with- 
out any possibility of doubt, his coming would seal her 
fate — whatever it was to be. She must wait until then. 
A long, shuddering sigh ran through her. Ahmed 1 
Ahmed Ben Hassan,” she murmured slowly, lingering 
^ith wistful tenderness on the words. She pressed her 


THE SHEIK 


275 

face closer into the cushions, clasping her hands over her 
head, and for a long time lay very still. The heat was 
intense and every moment the tent seemed to grow more 
airless. The room was stifling, and, with a little groan, 
Diana sat up, pushing the heavy hair off her damp fore- 
head, and covered her flushed face with her hands. A 
cicada began its shrill note close by, chirping with mad- 
dening persistency. Quite suddenly her mind was filled 
with thoughts of her own people, the old home in Eng- 
land, the family for whose honour her ancestors had been 
so proudly jealous. Even Aubrey, lazy and self-indul- 
gent as he was, prized the family honour as he prized noth- 
ing else on earth ; and now she, proud Diana Mayo, who 
had the history of her race at her fingers* ends, who had 
gloried in the long line of upright men and chaste women, 
had no thankfulness in her heart that in her degradation 
she had been spared a crowning shame. Beside her love 
everything dwindled into nothingness. He was her life, 
he filled her horizon. Honour itself was lost in the 
absorbing passion of her love. He had stripped it from 
her and she was content that it should lie at his feet. 
He had made her nothing, she was his toy, his plaything, 
waiting to be thrown aside. She shuddered again and 
looked around the tent that she had shared with him with 
a bitter smile and sad, hunted eyes. . . . After her — 
who? The cruel thought persisted. She was tom with 
a mad, primitive jealousy, a longing to kill the u^nown 
woman who would inevitably succeed her, a desire that 
grew until a horror of her own feelings seized her, and 
she shrank down, clasping her hands over her ears to shut 
out the insidious voice that seemed actually whispering 
beside her. The Persian hound in the next room had 


THE SHEIK 


276 

whined uneasily from time to time, and now he pushed 
his way past the curtain and stalked across the thick 
rugs. He nozzled his shaggy head against her knee, 
whimpering unhappily, looking up into her face. And 
when she noticed him he reared up and flung his long 
body across her lap, thrusting his wet nose into her face. 
She caught his head in her hands and rubbed her cheek 
against his rough hair, crooning over him softly. Even 
the dog was comfort in her loneliness, and they both 
waited for their master. 

She pushed him down at length, and with her hand on 
his collar went into the other room. A solitary lamp 
burned dimly. She crossed to the doorway and pulled 
aside the flap, and a small, white-clad figure rose up before 
her. 

“ Is that you, Gaston ? ” she asked involuntarily, though 
she knew that the question was unnecessary, for he always 
slept across the entrance to the tent when the Sheik was 
away. 

A votre service, Madame. ** 

For a few minutes she did not speak, and Gaston stood 
silent beside her. She might have remembered that he 
was there. He never stirred far beyond the sound of her 
voice whenever she was alone in the camp. He was al- 
ways waiting, unobtrusive, quick to carry out her requests, 
even to anticipate them. With him standing beside her 
she thought of the time when they had fought side by 
side — all difference in rank eclipsed in their common 
danger. The servant had been merged into the man, and 
a man who had the courage to do what he had attempted 
when he had faced her at what had seemed the last mo- 


THE SHEIK 


277^ 

merit with his revolver clenched in a hand that had not 
shaken, a man at whose side and by whose hand she 
would have been proud to die. They were men, these 
desert dwellers, master and servants alike; men who 
endured, men who did things, inured to hardships, im- 
bued with magnificent courage, splendid healthy animals. 
There was nothing effete or decadent about the men with 
whom Ahmed Ben Hassan surrounded himself. 

Diana had always liked Gaston; she had been touched 
by his unvarying respectful attitude that had never by a 
single word or look conveyed the impression that he was 
aware of her real position in his master's camp. He 
treated her as if she were indeed what from the bottom of 
her heart she wished she was. He was solicitous without 
being officious, familiar with no trace of impertinence. 
He was Diana's first experience of a class of servant that 
still lingers in France, a survival of pre-Revolution days, 
who identify themselves entirely with the family they 
serve, and in Gaston's case this interest in his master had 
been strengthened by experiences shared and dangers 
faced which had bound them together with a tie that 
could never be broken and had raised their relations on to 
a higher plane than that of mere master and man. Those 
relations had at first been a source of perpetual wonder 
to Diana, brought up in the rigid atmosphere of her 
brother's establishment, where Aubrey's egoism gave no 
opportunity for anything but conventional service, and 
in their wanderings, where personal servants had to be 
often changed. Even Stephens was, in Aubrey's eyes, a 
mere machine. 

Very soon after she had been brought to Ahmed Ben 


THE SHEIK 


278 

Hassan’s camp she had realised that Gaston's devotion 
to the Sheik had been extended to herself, but since the 
night of the raid he had frankly worshipped her. 

It was very airless even out-of-doors. She peered into 
the darkness, but there was little light from the tiny 
crescent moon, and she could see nothing. She moved a 
few steps forward from under the awning to look up at 
the brilliant stars twinkling overhead. She had watched 
them so often from Ahmed Ben Hassan’s arms; they 
had become an integral part of the passionate Oriental 
nights. He loved them, and when the mood was on him, 
watched them untiringly, teaching her to recognise them, 
and telling her countless Arab legends connected with 
them, sitting under the awning far into the night, till 
gradually his voice faded away from her ears, and long 
after she was asleep he would sit on motionless, staring up 
into the heavens, smoking endless cigarettes. Would it be 
given to her ever to watch them again sparkling against 
the blue-blackness of the sky, with the curve of his arm 
round her and the steady beat of his heart under her 
cheek? A stab of pain went through her. Would any- 
thing ever be the same again ? Everything had changed 
since the coming of Raoul de Saint Hubert. A weary 
sigh broke from her lips. 

“ Madam is tired ? ” a respectful voice murmured at 
her ear. 

Diana started. She had forgotten the valet. “ It is so 
hot. The tent was stifling,” she said evasively. 

Gaston's devotion was of a kind that sought practical 
demonstration. “Madame veut dii cafef’ he suggested 
tentatively. It was his universal panacea, but at the mo- 
ment it sounded almost grotesque. 


THE SHEIK 


279 

Diana felt an hysterical desire to laugh which nearly 
turned into tears, but she checked herself. “ No, it is 
too late.” 

‘‘ In one little moment I will bring it,” Gaston urged 
persuasively, unwilling to give up his own gratification in 
serving her. 

No, Gaston. It makes me nervous,” she said gently. 

Gaston heaved quite a tragic sigh. His own nerves 
were steel and his capacity for imbibing large quantities of 
black coffee at any hour of the day or night unlimited. 

'' Une limonadef he persisted hopefully. 

She let him bring the cool drink more for his pleasure 
than for her own. “ Monseigneur is late,” she said 
slowly, straining her eyes again into the darkness. 

He will come,” replied Gaston confidently. “ Kopec 
is restless, he is always so when Monseigneur is coming.” 

She looked down for a moment thoughtfully at the dim 
shape of the hound lying at the man’s feet, and then with 
a last upward glance at the bright stars turned back into 
the tent. All her nervous fears had vanished in speaking 
to Gaston, who was the embodiment of practical common 
sense ; earlier, when unreasoning terror had taken such a 
hold on her, she had forgotten that he was within call, 
faithful and devoted. She picked up the fallen book, and 
lying down again forced herself to read, but though her 
eyes followed the lines mechanically she did not sense 
what she was reading, and all the time her ears were 
strained to catch the earliest sound of his coming. 

At last it came. Only a suggestion at first — a wave of 
thought caught by her waiting brain, an instinctive intui- 
tion, and she started up tense with expectancy, her lips 
parted, her eyes wide, hardly breathing, listening intently. 


28 o 


THE SHEIK 


And when he came it was with unexpected suddenness, 
for, in the darkness, the little band of horsemen were 
invisible until they were right on the camp, and the horses* 
hoofs made no sound. The stir caused by his arrival died 
away quickly. For a moment there was a confusion of 
voices, a jingle of accoutrements, one of the horses whin- 
nied, and then in the ensuing silence she heard him come 
into the tent. Her heart raced suffocatingly. There was 
a murmur of conversation, the Sheik’s low voice and 
Gaston’s quick animated tones answering him, and then 
the servant hurried out. Acutely conscious of every 
sound, she waited motionless, her hands gripping the soft 
mattress until her fingers cramped, breathing in long, 
painful gasps as she tried to stop the laboured beating of 
her heart. In spite of the heat a sudden coldness crept 
over her, and she shivered violently from time to time. 
Her face was quite white, even her lips were colourless 
and her eyes, fixed on the curtain which divided the two 
rooms, glittered feverishly. With her intimate knowledge 
every movement in the adjoining room was as perceptible 
as if she had seen it. He was pacing up and down as he 
had paced on the night when Gaston’s fate was hanging 
in the balance, as he always paced when he was deliber- 
ating anything, and the scent of his cigarette filled her 
room. Once he paused near the communicating curtain 
and her heart gave a wild leap, but after a moment he 
moved away. He stopped again at the far end of the 
tent, and she knew from the faint metallic click that he 
was loading his revolver. She heard him lay it down on 
the little writing-table, and then the steady tramping began 
once more. His restlessness made her uneasy. He had 
been in the saddle since early dawn. Saint Hubert had 


THE SHEIK 


281 

advised him to be careful for some weeks yet. It was 
imprudent not to rest when opportunity offered. He was 
so careless of himself. She gave a quick, impatient sigh, 
and the tender light in her eyes deepened into an anxiety 
that was half maternal. In spite of his renewed strength 
and his laughing protests at RaouFs warnings, coupled 
with a physical demonstration on his less muscular friend 
that had been very conclusive, she could never forget that 
she had seen him lying helpless as a child, too weak even 
to raise his hand. Nothing could ever take the remem- 
brance from her, and nothing could ever alter the fact that 
in his weakness he had been dependent on her. She had 
been necessary to him then. She had a moment's fierce 
pleasure in the thought, but it faded as suddenly as it had 
come. It had been an ephemeral happiness. 

At last she heard the divan creak under his weight, but 
not until Gaston came back bringing his supper. As he 
ate he spoke, and his first words provoked an exclama- 
tion of dismay from the Frenchman, which was hastily 
smothered with a murmured apology, and then Diana 
became aware that others had come into the room. He 
spoke to each in turn, and she recognised Yusef's clear, 
rather high-pitched voice arguing with the taciturn head 
camelman, whose surly intonations and behaviour matched 
the bad-tempered animals to whom he was devoted, until 
a word from Ahmed Ben Hassan silenced them both. 
There were two more who received their orders with only 
a grunt of acquiescence. 

Presently they went out, but Yusef lingered, talking 
volubly, half in Arabic, half in French, but lapsing more 
and more into the vernacular as he grew excited. Even 
in the midst of her trouble the thought of him sent a 


282 


THE SHEIK 


little smile to Diana’s lips. She could picture him squat- 
ting before the Sheik, scented and immaculate, his fine 
eyes rolling, his slim hands waving continually, his hand- 
some face alight with boyish enthusiasm and worship. At 
last he, too, went, and only Gaston remained, busy with 
the cafetiere that was his latest toy. The aroma of the 
boiling coffee filled the tent. She could imagine the 
servant’s deft fingers manipulating the fragile glass and 
silver appliance. She could hear the tinkle of the spoon 
as he moved the cup, the splash of the coffee as he poured 
it out, the faint sound of the cup being placed on the inlaid 
table. Why was Ahmed drinking French coffee when 
he always complained it kept him awake? At night he 
was in the habit of taking the native preparation. Surely 
to-night he had need of sleep. It was the hardest day he 
had had since his illness. For a few moments longer Gas- 
ton moved about the outer room, and from the sound 
Diana guessed that he was collecting on to a tray the vari- 
ous things that had to be removed. Then his voice, louder 
than he had spoken before: 

Monseigneur desir d* autre chose?** 

The Sheik must have signed in the negative, for there 
was no audible answer. 

''Bon soir, Monseigneur?* 

"Bon soir, Gaston.** 

Diana drew a quick breath. While the man was still 
in the adjoining room the moment for which she was 
waiting seemed interminable. And now she wished he 
had not gone. He stood between her and — what ? For - 
the first time since the coming of Saint Hubert she was 
alone with him, really alone. Only a curtain separated 
them, a curtain that she could not pass. She longed to 


THE SHEIK 


28^ 

go to him, but she did not dare. She was pulled between 
love and fear, and for the moment fear was in the ascend- 
ant. She shivered, and a sob rose in her throat as the 
memory came to her of another night during those two 
months of happiness, that were fast becoming like a 
wonderful dream, when he had ridden in late. After 
Gaston left she had gone to him, flushed and bright-eyed 
with sleep, and he had pulled her down on to his knee, and 
made her share the native coffee she detested, laughing 
boyishly at her face of disgust. And, holding her in his 
arms with her head on his shoulder, he had told her all 
the incidents of the day’s visit to one of the other camps, 
and from his men and his horses drifted almost insensibly 
into details connected with his own plans for the future, 
which were really the intimate confidences of a husband 
to a wife who is also a comrade. The mingled pain and 
pleasure of the thought had made her shiver, and he 
had started up, declaring that she was cold, and, lifting 
her till his cheek was resting on hers, carried her back into 
the other room. 

But what she had done then was impossible now. He 
seemed so utterly strange, so different from the man whom 
she thought she had grown to understand. She was all 
at sea. She was desperately tired, her head aching and 
confused with the terrible problems of the future. She 
dared not think any more. She only wanted to lie in his 
arms and sob her heart out against his. She was starv- 
ing for the touch of his hands, suffering horribly. 

She slid down on to her knees, burying her face in the 
couch. 

‘‘ Oh, God ! Give me his love ! ” she kept whispering 
in agonised entreaty, until the recollection of the night, 


THE SHEIK 


284 

months before, when in the same posture she had prayed 
that God’s curse might fall on him, sent a shudder through 
her. 

“ I didn’t mean she moaned. Oh, dear God ! I 
didn’t mean it. I didn’t know. . . . Take it back. I 
didn’t mean it.” 

She choked down the sobs that rose, pressing her face 
closer into the silken coverings. 

There was silence in the next room except for the 
striking of a match that came with monotonous regularity. 
And always the peculiar scent of his tobacco drifting in 
through the heavy curtains, forcing a hundred recollec- 
tions with the association of its perfume. Why didn’t 
he come to her? Did he know how he was torturing her? 
Was he so utterly indifferent that he did not care what 
she suffered? Did he even think of her, to wonder if 
she suffered or not? The fear of the future rushed on 
her again with overwhelming force. The uncertainty was 
killing her. She raised her head and looked at the 
travelling clock beside the reading-lamp. It was an hour 
since Gaston had left him. Another hour of waiting 
would drive her mad. She must know what he was going 
to do. She could bear anything but this suspense. She 
had reached the limit of her endurance. She struggled 
to her feet, drawing the thin wrap closer around her. But 
even then she stood irresolute, dreading the fulfilling of 
her fears ; she had not the courage voluntarily to precipi- 
tate her fate. She clung to her fool’s paradise. Her 
eyes were fixed on the clock, watching the hands drag 
slowly round the dial. A quarter of an hour crept past. 
It seemed the quarter of a lifetime, and Diana brushed 
her hand across her eyes to clear away the dazzling re- 


THE SHEIK 


285 

flection of the staring white china face with its long black 
minute hand. No sound of any kind came now from 
the other room. The silence was driving her frantic. 
She was desperate; she must know, nothing could be 
worse than the agony she was enduring. 

She set her teeth and, crossing the room, slipped noise- 
lessly between the curtains. Then she shrank back sud- 
denly with her hands over her mouth. He was leaning 
forward on the divan, his elbows on his knees, his face 
hidden in his hands. And it was as a stranger that he 
had come back to her, divested of the flowing robes that 
had seemed essentially a part of him ; an unfamiliar figure 
in silk shirt, riding breeches and high brown boots, still 
dust-covered from the long ride. A thin tweed coat lay 
in a heap on the carpet — he must have flung it off after 
Gaston went, for the valet, with his innate tidiness, would 
never have left it lying on the floor. 

She looked at him hungrily, her eyes ranging slowly 
over the long length of him and lingering on his bent 
head. The light from the hanging lamp shone on his 
thick brown hair burnishing it like bronze. She was shak- 
ing with a sudden new shyness, but love gave her courage 
and she went to him, her bare feet noiseless on the rugs. 

** Ahmed ! ” she whispered. 

He lifted his head slowly and looked at her, and the 
sight of his face sent her on to her knees beside him, her 
hands clutching the breast of his soft shirt. 

“Ahmed! What is it? . . . You are hurt — your 
wound ? ” she cried, her voice sharp with anxiety. 

He caught her groping hands, and rising, pulled her 
gently to her feet, his fingers clenched round hers, looking 
down at her strangely. Then he turned from her without 


286 


THE SHEIK 


a word, and wrenching open the flap of the tent, flung it 
back and stood in the open doorway staring out into the 
right. He looked oddly slender and tall silhouetted 
against the darkness. A gleam of perplexity crept into 
her frightened eyes, and one hand went up to her throat. 

What is it ? ” she whispered again breathlessly. 

It is that we start for Oran to-morrow,” he replied. 
His voice sounded dull and curiously unlike, and with a 
little start Diana realised that he was speaking in English. 
Her eyes closed and she swayed dizzily. 

You are sending me away?” she gasped slowly. 

There was a pause before he answered. 

” Yes.” 

The curt monosyllable lashed her like a whip. She 
reeled under it, panting and wild-eyed. “ Why ? ” 

He did not answer and the colour flamed suddenly into 
her face. She went closer to him, her breast heaving, 
trying to speak, but her throat was parched and her lips 
shaking so that no words would come. 

“ It is because you are tired of me? ” she muttered at 
last hoarsely, “ — as you told me you would tire, as you 
tired of — those other women?” Her voice died away 
with an accent of horror in it. 

Again he did not answer, but he winced, and his hands 
that were hanging at his sides clenched slowly. 

Diana flung one arm across her face to shut him out 
from her sight. Her heart was breaking, and she longed 
with a feeling of sick misery to crawl to his feet, but a 
remnant of pride kept her back. 

He spoke at length in the same level, toneless voice. 

I will take you to the first desert station outside of Oran, 
where you can join the train. For your own sake I must 


THE SHEIK 


287 


not be seen with you in Oran, as I am known there. If 
you should by any chance be recognised or your identity 
should leak out, you can say that for reasons of your own 
you extended your trip, that your messages miscarried, 
anything that occurs to you. But it is not at all likely to 
happen. There are many travellers passing through 
Oran. Gaston can do all business and make all arrange- 
ments for you. He will take you to Marseilles, and if 
you need him he will go with you to Paris, Cherbourg, or 
London — whichever you wish. As you know, you can 
trust him absolutely. When you do not need him any 
longer, he will come back to me. I — I will not trouble 
you any more. You need never be afraid that I will come 
into your life again. You can forget these months in the 
desert and the uncivilised Arab who crossed your path. 
To keep out of your way is the only amends I can make.’^ 

She flung up her head. Quick, suspicious jealousy and 
love and pride contending nearly choked her. “Why 
don’t you speak the truth ? ” she cried wildly. “ Why 
don’t you say what you really mean? — that you have 
no further use for me, that it amused you to take me and 
torture me to satisfy your whim, but the whim is passed. 
It does not amuse you any longer. You are tired of me 
and so you get rid of me with all precautions. Do you 
think the truth can hurt me? Nothing that you can do 
can hurt me now. You make me the vile thing I am for 
your pleasure, and now for your pleasure you throw me 
on one side. ... How many times a year does Gaston 
take your discarded mistresses back to France?” Her 
voice broke into a terrible laugh. 

He swung round swiftly and flung his arms about her, 
crushing her to him savagely, forgetting his strength, his 


288 


THE SHEIK 


eyes blazing. “ God ! Do you think it is' easy to let 
you go, that you are taunting me like this ? Do you think 
I haven’t suffered, that I’m not suffering now? Don’t 
you know that it is tearing my heart out by the roots to 
send you away? My life will be hell without you. Do 
you think I haven’t realised what an infinitely damned 
brute I’ve been? I didn’t love you when I took you, I 
only wanted you to satisfy the beast in me. And I was 
glad that you were English that I could make you suffer 
as an Englishman made my mother suffer, I so loathed the 
whole race. I have been mad all my life, I think — up 
till now. I thought I didn’t care until the night I heard 
that Ibraheim Amair had got you, and then I knew that 
if anything happened to you the light of my life was out, 
and that I would only wait to kill Ibraheim before I killed 
myself.” 

His arms were like a vice hurting her, but they felt like 
heaven, and she clung to him speechless, her heart throb- 
bing wildly. He looked down long and deeply into her 
eyes, and the light in his — the light that she had longed 
for — made her tremble. His brown head bent lower and 
lower, and his lips had almost touched her when he drew 
back, and the love in his eyes faded into misery. 

‘'I mustn’t kiss you,” he said huskily, as he put her 
from him gently. “ I don’t think I should have the 
courage to let you go if I did. I didn’t mean to touch 
you.” 

He turned from her with a little gesture of weariness. 

Fear fled back into her eyes. “ I don’t want to go,” 
she whispered faintly. 

He paused by the writing-table and took up the revolver 
he had loaded earlier, breaking it absently, spinning the 


THE SHEIK 289 

magazine between his finger and thumb, and replaced h 
before answering. 

You don’t understand. There is no other way,” he 
said dully. 

If you really loved me you would not let me go,” she 
cried, with a miserabl^^sob. 

If I loved you ? ” he echoed, with a hard laugh. '' If 
I loved you I It is because I love you so much that I am 
able to do it. If I loved you a little less I would let you 
stay and take your chance.” 

She flung out her hands appealingly. “ I want to stay, 
Ahmed ! I love you ! ” she panted, desperate — for she 
knew his obstinate determination, and she saw her chance 
of happiness slipping away. 

He did not move or look at her, and his brows drew 
together .in the dreaded heavy frown. “ You don’t know 
what you are saying. You don’t know what it would 
mean,” he replied in a voice from which he had forced all 
expression. “If you married me you would have to live 
always here in the desert. I cannot leave my people, and 
I am — too much of an Arab to let you go alone. It 
would be no life for you. You think you love me now, 
though God knows how you can after what I have done to 
you, but a time would come when you would find that your 
love for me did not compensate for your life here. And 
marriage with me is unthinkable. You know what I am 
and what I have been. You know that I am not fit to 
live with, not fit to be near any decent woman. You 
know what sort of a damnable life I have led; the mem- 
ory of it would always come between us — you would 
never forget, you would never trust me. And if you 
pould, of your charity^ both forgive and forget, you know 


290 


THE SHEIK 


that I am not easy to live with. You know my devilish 
temper — it has not spared you in the past, it might not 
spare you in the future. Do you think that I could bear 
to see you year after year growing to hate me more? 
You think that I am cruel now, but I am thinking what 
is best for you afterwards. Some day you will think of 
me a little kindly because I had the strength to let you go. 
You are so young, your life is only just beginning. You 
are strong enough to put the memory of these last months 
out of your mind — to forget the past and live only for 
the future. No one need ever know. There can be no 
fear for your — reputation. Things are forgotten in the 
silence of the desert. Mustafa Ali is many hundreds of 
miles away, but not so far that he would dare to talk. My 
own men need not be considered, they speak or are silent 
as I wish. There is only Raoul, and there is no question 
of him. He has not spared me his opinion. You must 
go back to your own country, to your own people, to your 
own life, in which I have no place or part, and soon all 
this will seem only like an ugly dream.’’ 

The sweat was standing out on his forehead and his 
hands were clenched with the effort he was making, but 
her head was buried in her hands, and she did not see the 
torture in his face, she only heard his soft, low voice 
inexorably decreeing her fate and shutting her out from 
happiness in quiet almost indifferent tones. 

She shuddered convulsively. “ Ahmed ! I can^t go ! ” 
she wailed. 

He looked up sharply, his face livid, and tore her hands 
from her face. Good God ! You don’t mean — I 

haven’t — You aren’t ” he gasped hoarsely, looking 

down at her with a great fear in his eyes. 


i 


THE SHEIK 


291 

She guessed what he meant and the color rushed into 
her face. The temptation to lie to him and let the conse- 
quences rest with the future was almost more than she 
could resist. One little word and she would be in his 

arms . . . but afterwards ? It was the fear of the 

afterwards that kept her silent. The colour slowly 
drained from her face and she shook her head mutely. 

He let go her wrists with a quick sigh of relief and 
wiped the perspiration from his face. Then he laid his 
hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently towards the 
inner room. For a moment she resisted, her wide, des- 
perate eyes searching his, but he would not meet her look, 
and his mouth was set in the hard straight line she knew so 
well, and with a cry she flung herself on his breast, her 
face hidden against him, her hands clinging round his 
neck. Ahmed ! Ahmed ! You are killing me, I can- 
not live without you. I love you and I want you — only 
you. I am not afraid of the loneliness of the desert, it 
is the loneliness of the world outside the shelter of your 
arms that I am afraid of. I am not afraid of what you 
are or what you have been. I am not afraid of what 
you might do to me. I never lived until you taught me 
what life was, here in the desert. I can’t go back to the 
old life, Ahmed. Have pity on me. Don’t shut me out 
from my only chance of happiness, don’t send me away. 
I know you love me — I know ! I know ! And because 
I know I am not ashamed to beg you to be merciful. I 
haven’t any shame or pride left. Ahmed! Speak to 
me ! I can’t bear'your silence. ... Oh ! You are cruel, 
cruel!” 

A spasm crossed his face, but his mouth set firmer and 
he disengaged her clinging hands with relentless fingers. 


THE SHEIK 


292 

‘‘ I have never been anything else,” he said bitterly, “ but 
I am willing that you should think me a brute now rather 
than you should live to curse the day you ever saw me. I 
still think that your greater chance of happiness lies away 
from me rather than with me, and for your ultimate hap- 
piness I am content to sacrifice everything.” 

He dropped her hands and turned abruptly, going back 
to the doorway, looking out into the darkness. “ It is 
very late. We must start early. Go and lie down,” he 
said gently, but it was an order in spite of the gentleness 
of his voice. 

She shrank back trembling, with piteous, stricken face 
and eyes filled with a great despair. She knew him and 
she knew it was the end. Nothing would break his reso- 
lution. She looked at him with quivering lips through a 
mist of tears, looked at him with a desperate fixedness 
that sought to memorise indelibly his beloved image in 
her heart. The dear head so proudly poised on the broad 
shoulders, the long strong limbs, the slender, graceful 
body. He was all good to look upon. A man of men. 
Monseigneur! Monseigneur! Mon maitre et seigneur. 
No ! It would never be that any more. A rush of tears 
blinded her and she stepped back uncertainly and stumbled 
against the little writing-table. She caught at it behind 
her to steady herself, and her fingers touched the revolver 
he had laid down. The contact of the cold metal sent a 
chill that seemed to strike her heart. She stood rigid, 
with startled eyes fixed on the motionless figure in the 
doorway — one hand gripping the weapon tightly 
and the other clutching the silken wrap across her 
breast. Her mind raced forward feverishly, there were 
only a few hours left before the morning, before the bitter 


THE SHEIK 


293 


moment when she must leave behind her for ever the sur- 
roundings that had become so dear, that had been her home 
as the old castle in England had never been. She thought 
of the long journey northward, the agonised protraction 
of her misery riding beside him, the nightly camps when 
she would lie alone in the little travelling tent, and then 
the final parting at the wayside station, when she would 
have to watch him wheel at the head of his men and ride 
out of her life, and she would strain her eyes through the 
dust and sand to catch the last glimpse of the upright 
figure on the spirited black horse. It would be The 
Hawk, she thought suddenly. He had ridden Shaitan to- 
day, and he always used one or other of the two for 
long journeys. It was The Hawk he had ridden the day 
she had made her bid for freedom and who had carried 
the double burden on the return journey when she had 
found her happiness. The contrast between that ride, 
when she had lain content in the curve of his strong arm, 
and the ride that she would take the next day was poign- 
ant. She closed her teeth on her trembling lip, her fingers 
tightened on the stock of the revolver, and a wild light 
came into her sad eyes. She could never go through with 
it. To what end would be the hideous torture? What 
was life without him? — Nothing and less than nothing. 
She could never give herself to another man. She was 
necessary to no one. Aubrey had no real need of her; 
his selfishness wrapped him around with a complacency 
that abundantly satisfied him. One day, for the sake of 
the family he would marry — perhaps was already mar- 
ried if he had been able to find a woman in America who 
would accept his egoism along with his old name and pos- 
sessions. Her life was her own to deal with. Nobody 


294 


THE SHEIK 


would be injured by its termination. Aubrey, indeed, 

would benefit considerably. And he ? His figure 

was blurred through the tears that filled her eyes. 

Slowly she lifted the weapon clear of the table with 
steady fingers and brought her hand stealthily from behind 
her. She looked at it for a moment dispassionately. She 
was not afraid. She was conscious only of an over- 
whelming weariness, a longing for rest that should still 
the gnawing pain in her breast and the throbbing in her 
head. ... A flash and it would be over, and all her sor- 
row would melt away. . . . But would it? A doubting 
fear of the hereafter rushed over her. What if suffering 
lived beyond the border-line? But the fear went as sud- 
denly as it had come, for with it came remembrance that 
in that shadowy world she would find one who would 
understand — her own father, who had shot himself, mad 
with heartbroken despair, when her mother died in giving 
her birth. 

She lifted the revolver to her temple resolutely. 

There had been no sound to betray what was passing 
behind him, but the extra sense, the consciousness of 
imminent danger that was strong in the desert-bred man, 
sprang into active force within the Sheik. He turned 
like a flash and leaped across the space that separated 
them, catching her hand as she pressed the trigger, and 
the bullet sped harmlessly an inch above her head. With 
his face gone suddenly ghastly he wrenched the weapon 
from her and flung it far into the night. 

For a moment they stared into each other’s eyes in 
silence, then, with a moan, she slipped from his grasp and 
fell at his feet in an agony of terrible weeping. With a 
low exclamation hi stooped and swept her up into his 


THE SHEIK 


295 

arms, holding her slender, shaking figure with tender 
strength, pressing her head against him, his cheek on her 
red-gold curls. 

“ My God ! child, don't cry so. I can bear anything but 
that," he cried brokenly. 

But the terrible sobs went on, and fearfully he caught 
her closer, straining her to him convulsively, raining kisses 
on her shining hair. ** Diane, Diane, he whispered 
imploringly, falling back into the soft French that seemed 
so much more natural. Mon amour, ma bien~aimee, 
Ne pleures pas, je fen prie. Je faime, je f adore. Tu 
rest eras prks de moi, tout a moi*' 

She seemed only half-conscious, unable to check the 
emotion that, unloosed, overwhelmed her. She lay inert 
against him, racked with the long shuddering sobs that 
shook her. His firm mouth quivered as he looked down 
at his work. Gathering her up to his heart he carried her 
to the divan, and the weight of her soft slim body sent 
the blood racing madly through his veins. He laid her 
down, and dropped on his knees beside her, his arm 
wrapped round her, whispering words of passionate love. 

Gradually the terrible shuddering passed and the gasp- 
ing sobs died away, and she lay still, so still and white 
that he was afraid. He tried to rise to fetch some re- 
storative, but at the first movement she clung to him, 
pressing closer to him. I don't want anything but you," 
she murmured almost inaudibly. 

His arm tightened round her and he turned her face up 
to his. Her eyes were closed and the wet lashes lay black 
against her pale cheek. His lips touched them pitifully. 

“ Diane, will you never look at me again ? " His voice 
was almost humble. 


THE SHETK 


296 

Her eyes quivered a moment and then opened slowly, 
looking up into his with a still-lingering fear in them. 
“You won’t send me away?” she whispered pleadingly, 
like a terrified child. 

A hard sob broke from him and he kissed her trem- 
bling lips fiercely. “ Never ! ” he said sternly. “ I will 
never let you go now. My God! If you knew how I 
wanted you. If you knew what it cost me to send you 
away. Pray God I keep you happy. You know the 
worst of me, poor child — you will have a devil for a 
husband.” 

The colour stole back slowly into her face and a little 
tremulous smile curved her lips. She slid her arm up 
and round his neck, drawing his head down. ** I am not 
afraid,” she murmured slowly. “ I am not afraid of any- 
thing with your arms round me, my desert lover. 
Ahmed 1 Monseigneur 1 ” 


THE END 




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